


Something True

by SpindleKitten



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Bloodplay, Claiming, Claiming Bites, F/M, Mates, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-08-14 03:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16485386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpindleKitten/pseuds/SpindleKitten
Summary: When Buffy asks Willow to perform the disinvite after Spike's disastrous declaration of love, the witch remembers the perfect spell to help her friend with this stressful situation...





	1. Clarifying Couplet

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Written for the EF 12x12 Challenge.
> 
> For more info about the fruit code used in later chapters, check out the master list: spuffygems.boards.net/thread/59/fruit-code
> 
> Thanks to my amazing beta Badwolfjedi <3

Willow was gathering the ingredients for the disinvite spell. She really should put together some disinvite baggies with everything already organized and ready to cast, because no matter how perfectly alphabetized she kept her chest of magic supplies it took far too long to find everything. Not great for a spell that was pretty much always used on a 'need it _now!'_ basis.

She picked up her  _Compendium of Ritual Phrasing_ (essential for helping her create her own spells now that she knew what she was doing when it came to all things magical) and was reminded of a fun little couplet that she read a couple of weeks ago.

At the time she hadn't been able to come up with a reason for that she would want to use a 24-hour truth-revealing spell, but it was always fun to theorise. Now, with the book in her hand she suddenly realised the perfect way to use such a spell... and it would help Buffy with the crazy vampire who now thinks he is in love with her. It only needs a little tweaking, and with a genius brain like Willow's on the case that would translate to maybe ten minutes extra wait before the disinvite could be cast. She doubted Buffy would even notice the delay.

She quickly flicked through the book, finding the couplet that she needed with little effort. She copied it out into her spell-creation notebook. A few moments' work turned into long minutes of careful contemplation – words written, crossed-out and re-phrased – it was a simple matter to devise a clarifying couplet that would personalize her spell, but it took  _time_ to get it just right. Finally, she clapped her hands together in a happy dance, then put on her 'serious magic' face.

With a speed enabled by the organization of her magical supplies, she gathered a few ingredients to enhance the magic and whispered the newly-written words.

“ _As four and twenty hours pass_

_ Let the truth be understood _

_ A soulless vampire cannot love _

_ No demon will win the Slayer's heart” _

There was a flash of completed magic and the smug witch finished gathering her ingredients for the disinvite before hurrying back across town to the Summers house.

***

Buffy was pacing frantically back and forth between the front and back doors of her mother's house, keeping a paranoid look out for the bleach haired menace who had added a whole new level of creepy to his usual disgusting, evil personality.

She really needed to keep the ingredients for a disinvite on hand. If she did, Willow would have done the spell by now and she could be curled up on the sofa with a pint of Ben and Jerry's, trying to forget being subjected to the freakiest declaration of love in the history of  _ ever _ . 

Instead, she was pacing and checking the clock every couple of seconds trying to determine whether she should be panicking yet at the lack of Willow and her anti-stress home-de-vamping magics. Surely, she should have been here by now? It should have only taken a few minutes to get the spell supplies and that would put Willow's expected arrival time at about  _ five minutes ago _ . 

Should she be worrying? What if Spike knew what they planned and attacked Willow on her way over? But wait – chip – and really, it's only a few minutes. Maybe someone stopped to talk to her and she couldn't explain why she had to rush away because the whole  _ magic and demons are real _ thing was not a simple or quick explanation – or one that anyone needed to hear. Stop being hysterical-Buffy! 

Really, she waited  _ weeks _ to disinvite Angelus from her house. She could wait a few more minutes before banning his stupid chipped grandchilde! It's not like the idiot could really hurt her – she just wanted to keep his creepy stalkerish self out of her underwear drawer!

_ Stupid vamp, thinking he's in love with me! _ she thought. Didn't he get the message that it is impossible to love without a soul. Surely the whole Angelus debacle proved that!

Buffy faltered in her pacing for a fraction of a moment, losing her train of thought. What was the problem again? Oh yes, Spike decided the best way to tell her he loved her was to have her chained in his crypt basement. Idiotic vampire. Doesn't he know that the way to a Slayer's heart lies in chocolates and shiny weaponry? 

It's not like offering to stake his sleezy ho-bag ex wasn't an amazing gesture. Vampires dusting their sires was a huge deal, after all, and that is without considering how much he had loved her. Heck, Buffy had managed to get him to call off the whole vamp-club massacre just by  _ threatening _ Dru that time. 

No, it was just the creepy chains and the death threats that freaked her out. Did he  _ really _ think the  _ Slayer _ was going to submit to a vampire? Really? It didn't matter how gorgeous he was, she would always be the alpha in their relationship.

Buffy abruptly stopped pacing and made a grab for her jacket. At her mother's concerned look, she shrugged and mumbled something about finding Willow as she rushed back out into the night. Back to Restfield.

***

Spike was furious. He couldn't decide whether he was more angry with himself for the whole stupid chaining-up-the-slayer stunt, Dru for putting the idea in his head in the first place, Harmony for being an idiot or the bloody Slayer herself for being such a bull-headed stubborn bitch.

He couldn't believe the stupid bint was still so obsessed with the whole soul nonsense. It's not like bloody Angelus didn't do an amazing job of breaking her _despite_ his shiny soul. Not that she'd ever acknowledge it. The only reason she ever chased Captain Cardboard and the fantasy of normal was because the great poofter told her that was what she needed.

She's the bloody SLAYER! That's about as far from normal as you can get. How does she imagine she can ever have a satisfying relationship with a human – they could never really understand her or her calling. Not to mention they are so fucking _breakable_.

He growled in frustration. Deep down, he knew that he didn't really stand a chance with her. She was right – he was beneath her. So far beneath her. Such... effulgence... was beyond the wildest dreams of an evil creature such as himself.

But why not? Sure, he was an evil demon but hadn't he kind of thrown out his black hat after the whole failed-alliance with Adam? Even before that he had been helping the Slayer and her little friends, keeping down the demon population with his nightly spot of violence.

He might not be _good_ , but maybe he was what the Slayer needed. He wouldn't leave her like those other wankers, that's for sure. When Spike loved someone, he did so completely. None of that leaving for your own good bollocks.

He wouldn't whine on about protecting the bint, either. Slayer could handle herself. Sure, she could use someone to watch her back (and he _definitely_ enjoyed watching that side of her) but Spike had seen how infuriated she was when her previous boyfriends had tried to play the big protector. He'd much rather watch her fight – bleeding poetry in motion she was – than take her fun away.

Though what he wouldn't give to fight her again! Just the thought made his pants uncomfortably tight.

Unfortunately, the most he could hope for right now was another broken nose. Not that he didn't deserve it. Serve him right for listening to the demon. Violent fucker might love the girl, but it _really_ didn't know how to show it. He should never have fed from that girl Dru killed – it made the demon too strong. Too hard to ignore. Plus, it made pigswill even more unappetising than usual.

No, he shouldn't be surprised that the Slayer was upset. Why couldn't he have just bought her chocolate or something shiny and sharp? Maybe he should do that now. Make a proper apology.

Mind made up, he slammed open the door to his crypt and burst out with the focused determination of a man hoping to calm a woman scorned. He made it all of three steps into the cemetery before coming face to face with an equally determined Slayer storming her way over to his crypt.

“Spike?”

“Slayer?” He looked down at his scuffed boots, suddenly unsure of himself. “I.. er.. was just on my way ta see you.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow.

“You were? Not planning on tying me up again were you?”

Spike brought one hand to rub the back of his neck, his posture the epitome of awkward embarrassed schoolboy. If it were possible, Buffy was certain he would be blushing.

“No. I was.. um.. actually, I wanted to say sorry. For the whole chains thing. Not one of my better ideas.”

Buffy crossed her arms under her chest and rolled her eyes.

“It really wasn't. You're an idiot. What could possibly have ever made you think that was a good idea?”

If anything, Spike looked more embarrassed. His reply was mumbled, though perfectly understandable.

“Dru would have liked it...”

“And I say again, what could have possibly made you think that anything your insaneo ho-bag vampire ex-girlfriend would have liked would work for me? I'm the Slayer, doofus.”

Spike shrugged, hands in his pockets, still unable to make eye contact.

“I'm an idiot?”

Buffy smirked. She definitely couldn't argue with that.

“At least you admit it,” she huffed.

“Look, Slayer – _Buffy –_ I know that you're never gonna believe that I care about you, what with my distinct lack of soul and all, so I'm just gonna say I'm sorry and that I'll leave you alone if that's what you want. I'll still be here if you need my help. I'm not gonna stop loving you, but I'll not mention it again. Don't wanna upset you.”

With that, Spike turned and began a dejected shuffle back into his crypt. After everything that had happened today, he knew better than to push his luck.

He was just across the threshold when he heard her.

“Spike!”

Looking over his shoulder, he was surprised to see her approaching him. He felt certain that right now she wouldn't want to be this close to the scene of their earlier altercation. He couldn't have been more shocked when she then raised an arm to squeeze his leather-covered bicep.

“I believe you,” she said, quietly. “Deep down, I think I've always known that you could love. The way you cared for Drusilla – you don't _do_ stuff like that if you don't love someone. At least,” she amended with a wry smile, “not for a whole century.”

Gobsmacked. That was a good word to describe how he felt in that moment. His mouth hung open in that 'slapped in the face with a wet haddock' kind of disbelief. Was he dreaming?

Buffy seemed to understand his reaction, because she continued with a self-deprecating sigh.

“I know. After Angel, I just didn't want to believe it. Because if you could love Drusilla, then Angelus should still have loved me.”

“Oh, pet. Angelus never loved anybody but himself and stuffing a soul up his arse didn't change that. He only loved you as the symbol of his sodding redemption. Having your love meant that on some level he was forgiven. Made his soul happy. Plus, the wanker always did like 'em young.”

Buffy's eyes widened, and she couldn't help the full body shiver that came when she processed that thought. God, but she had been _young_ when she fell in love with Angel.

She was shocked out of her stupor by a gentle hand on her face. Spike's thumb swept away tears she hadn't even been aware of falling.

“Dint mean to make you cry, pet. Git's not worth your tears.”

Buffy sniffled a little and found herself leaning into his touch. Why had she never let herself see what a big softie Spike was under that macho tough-guy front he hid behind. Even after that stupid Will-be-Done Spell she never allowed herself to see that he was capable of being anything other than an irritating pain in the ass ex-Big Bad.

But the magic had done nothing to change either of them on a fundamental level. They had still fought, he was jealous and insecure and at the same time had managed to be the most loving and attentive boyfriend she had ever had. Only she hadn't had him.

_That_ should have been the moment she realised. She could have saved herself all the pain and mess of trying for 'normal' with Riley. Not that she hadn't cared about him, but it had been such  _hard work_ . And incredibly frustrating.

She couldn't stop her mind leaping down that rabbit hole. What would sex with Spike be like? How would it feel to actually be able to relax and let herself go in the bedroom? To have a partner that could take everything her slayer strength might give?

Jeez! What was so special about  _normal_ anyway?

She hadn't even realised that she was moving, her mind otherwise occupied with making all those connections she had never allowed it to acknowledge before. That the vampire before her – the sweet  _man_ standing in front of her – would do anything for the woman that he loved. And that was  _her_ .

The feel of his lips, soft and firm against her own, shocked her back into the moment. Her arms had found their way around his neck, fingers teasing the short curls at the base of his skull. She hadn't meant for this. Would never have  _planned_ to be here. Kissing Spike. 

And didn't that make her a fool.


	2. Invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated blueberries.

She didn't know how it happened. One moment they were standing at the entrance to his crypt, talking about Angel. The next second, she found herself pressed up against the already-closed door, crushed between cold metal and the hard muscles of her vampire. Kissing him desperately. Passionately.

Every cell in her body was screaming to get closer to him; their clothes a physically painful barrier. She needed him like she had never needed anything in her _life_ before. Oxygen was no more necessary for her existence than high school algebra in this moment.

How had she never before allowed herself _this_.

Her hands made their way down from his neck exploring his shoulders, back, arms until they found their way under his duster. Her fingers plucked at the hem of his t-shirt, itching to find the cool skin hidden beneath.

He hissed with pleasure and pulled his lips away from hers at the contact.

They were both gasping for breath, overcome with the intensity of the moment.

As Buffy took great gulps of suddenly much-needed air, her fuzzy brain began to regain some function and she started to process the murmuring that accompanied the litany of soft kisses being trailed over her jaw and down her throat.

Words of love and praise and desire.

“God, Buffy... so beautiful... love you... want you so bad... my golden girl...”

Now that she was no longer actively kissing Spike, thinking was no longer such a struggle. Which was unfortunate, because she suddenly remembered where she was and what she was supposed to be doing.

“I can't do this!” she gasped, pushing gently at the amorous vampire to get him away from her neck.

Spike jumped back as if burned. She was confused to see his beautifully expressive face warring between pained betrayal and fury. Obviously, Buffy communications breakdown strikes again. She put her hand on his chest, eyes pleading with him to let her talk first.

“I didn't mean that. Or at least I did, but not the way I think you think that I did.”

The hurt and anger were now blurred by a confused wrinkle across his brow. She tried again.

“I can't do this because my mom and sister are at home, probably worried sick at the way I ran out on them. I have to get home and let them know you haven't hurt me. _That_ is why can't do this. Not that I don't want to. I really want to. I just have to get home.”

As understanding dawned and, as the vampire processed her convoluted explanation, his expression changed again. Awestruck glee was something Buffy had never expected to see on his face. The leering smirk that appeared when she got to the 'I want to' part was much more what she was used to seeing. Though for once she didn't mind.

Buffy began to straighten her dishevelled clothes, trying very hard to ignore the hungry gleam in the vampire's cerulean eyes. She really didn't want to leave him.

Impulsively, she asked “come with me?”

“Any time you like, Slayer” Spike purred, his voice dripping sex.

She rolled her eyes.

“Don't be dense, Spike. Come back with me. Spend the night.”

There was a certain vulnerability in his voice when he asked, “you sure?”

She gave a decisive nod. “Wouldn't have asked if I wasn't.”

Confidence restored, the Big Bad persona leapt to the fore. Thumbs in his belt loops, leaning back on his heels, he curled his tongue behind his teeth in that devastatingly sexy way of his.

“Alright then.”

Vampire and Slayer made their way back out into the cemetery together.

***

The couple walked shoulder to shoulder, not quite broaching the other's personal space, suddenly less confident in the physical boundaries between them. The night was dark and quiet and neither made a move to break the silence as they made their way back to Revello drive.

It was only when they reached the end of the road that Buffy spoke.

“Can you sneak in the window and wait for me in my room?”

Spike looked offended.

“Dirty little secret am I, Slayer?”

Buffy winced. She'd done the whole secret romance thing with Angel but sneaking around with Spike just felt wrong.

“No, it's just that after that whole mess with the chains and the death threats earlier I might have panicked and told my mom and I _really_ can't deal with that drama right now. Between Mom and Willow...”

Her eyes widened comically as she realised just why the red witch might still be there. Her hands covered her face and she groaned in embarrassment.

“Oh God, I asked Willow to do the disinvite.”

Her words were muffled as she spoke into her hands, but the vampire had no problem understanding them. Once more, hurt blossomed on his face.

“You disinvited me?”

Buffy removed her hands from her face and set them on her hips, huffing.

“To be fair, you chained me up and threatened to let your ho bag ex-girlfriend eat me!”

Spike cocked his head in acceptance of the fact, then spoke quickly. His tone was both apologetic and worried.

“But you know I'd never hurt you, right. Or your mom and the bit.”

Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Of course I do, idiot. Honestly, I was more concerned about you being all creepy and stalkerish and having access to my room.”

Spike crossed his arms over his chest, sulking.

“Angel was creepy and stalkerish and you left him a free pass...”

Buffy clenched her fists but resisted the temptation to punch him. She practically growled her frustrated reply.

“I was 16 and thought we were in love! I thought it was sweet when he snuck into my room to watch me sleep.”

“And now?”

She was confused by the angry undertone in Spike's quietly asked question.

“Now? He hasn't had an invite since Angelus, you know that.”

The vampire shook his head, visibly shaking off his frustration.

“I meant, if you were in that relationship now and he did the whole watching you sleep thing?”

Understanding clicked in Buffy's brain and she didn't hesitate with her reply.

“Now, he would get the creepy stalker disinvite package.”

Spike nodded, then seemed to think for a moment before speaking quietly.

“I wouldn't do that, you know.”

Buffy smiled.

“Yes, I know. You would last maybe two minutes before getting bored and waking me up to tell me some useless bit of very important information that could have waited until another day - or forever.

“With you, I was more worried that my underwear would disappear.”

Spike grinned, completely unrepentant.

“Yeah, well, you got me there. If it makes you feel better, I promise never to nick any of your underwear that I haven't personally removed from your luscious body.”

Once again, Buffy's eyes rolled in exasperation. She tried to keep her reply sounding irritated and defeated but wasn't sure that she was very successful.

“I expect that is as good as I'll get with you.”

Realising that they had been standing on the street for quite a while, she shooed him away.

“Right, well, go up the tree to my room. I will try inviting you in once I enter the house - I don't know if I need to be speaking directly to you for it to work. If not, I'll let you in as soon as I can get upstairs.”

The vampire melted into the darkness, leaving Buffy to walk the rest of the way home alone.

***

Buffy tried to creep quietly into the house but was thwarted before she had even crossed the threshold. She had been unfortunately accurate in her prediction that Joyce would be worried and waiting up for her.

“Is everything alright, Buffy? Willow said that she didn't see you.”

Buffy glanced around the room, realising that her mother was alone.

“Willow left already?”

Joyce nodded as she rose from her place on the sofa and made her way over to greet her wayward daughter.

“She did. Once she got here, she cast the spell and headed back to the dorms. I think she was hoping to bump into you on the way.”

Buffy felt the guilt of her earlier lie squirming around her stomach.

“Oh. I didn't see her. I kind of bumped into a vampire and got distracted.”

Joyce gave a look which made Buffy pretty sure that her mother knew _exactly_ which vampire she ran into, and quite probably what the distraction had been.

“Well, at least you're home safe. Spike didn't cause you any trouble while you were out did he?”

Yup. She knew. Buffy tried to hide a grimace and answer with her usual perky nonchalance but wasn't sure how successfully she did so.

“Spike is always trouble, but there were no more threats or chains tonight, so you don't need to worry.”

Oh no. Now she was getting the _mom_ look.

“I'm not worried. Not now that you're home and I know he won't be able to get to you.”

Buffy decided that now was probably a good time to start with the diffusing of potential Spike-induced drama. She had meant it when she told him he wasn't going to be her dirty secret.

“I think I might have overreacted a bit, Mom. I mean, even before the chip he came over to visit with you and Dawn. There is no way he would hurt you guys if he wants me to believe he loves me, and that's if he were even able to. And he couldn't hurt me even when he was invincible.”

Joyce, if anything, looked _more_ concerned after that.

“I don't know, Buffy. I always thought Spike was such a nice boy, but chaining up and threatening to kill my daughter...”

Buffy winced. That would do it. She must remember to hide her axes before letting Spike near her mom again.

“He's a vampire, Mom. You remember that time he came here all drunk after Dru left him? When he went back to try and win her back his plan was to chain her up and torture her until she loved him again.”

Joyce looked horrified. She really couldn't reconcile what she was hearing with the young man with whom she shared hot cocoa and talked about art.

“That's so... so...”

“Demonic?” Buffy helped her find the right word. “I forget that you've only really spent time with Spike when he's playing human. I'm not saying what he did to me was right. It wasn't. I just don't think he realised at the time how _wrong_ it was. He was being an idiot and thinking with his demon. I won't let it happen again.”

Funny enough, Joyce didn't seem overly mollified by her daughter's words.

“Really, Buffy, I don't like that you're just ignoring what happened.”

Buffy bit back her instinctive response - losing her temper now would so not be helpful. Instead, she took a calming breath and decided that a little more explaining wouldn't hurt.

“I'm not ignoring it, Mom. I'm the Slayer – violence happens to me every day and doesn't upset me the same way it would a normal girl. It wasn't the chains or the death threats that hurt – I've been there far too many times before – it was the fact that it was _Spike_ and I trusted him not to hurt me.

“Did you know he tried to take me on a date? There was a stake-out and bourbon and holding open doors... he tried so hard to get my attention the human way and I threw it back in his face. I expect that's why he went all demon-romance on me.”

Joyce wasn't certain she understood or accepted what her daughter was trying to tell her. Her mind was still a little stuck on the chains and death threats. Spike wasn't going to be welcome in her house for a while – he would have to prove himself to her all over again. Nevertheless, she knew better than to try and tell Buffy what to do.

“Buffy, you are an amazing young woman. It's not going to stop me worrying, but I am proud of the mature way you are handling this. Just be firm with him and make absolutely sure that you don't send any mixed signals.”

Buffy smiled, fairly sure that her thoughts when inviting the vampire back to her room were of the super see-through variety.

“That's me, no-signal-mixy Buffy. And now I think I'll head up to bed. Goodnight, Mom.”


	3. Make Me Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated orange, apple, mango, passionfruit and pomegranate.

Her room was dark and empty when she entered. Very aware of what she was instigating by inviting the vampire into the house, Buffy made sure to slide the lock closed. It had the added advantage of keeping bratty kid sisters from interrupting morning snuggles.

She stood in the dark for a moment, letting her eyes adjust and enjoying the faint tingles that told her Spike was near. Anticipation bubbled up in her chest and all of a sudden, she couldn't wait another second.

She was across the room, window open in record time. Spike was there, lounging carelessly on the roof, watching her with dark lust-filled eyes.

“Took your time, luv.”

She grimaced.

“Sorry. Had to face the mom inquisition.”

He made no move to get up, to come to her, and she couldn't help herself from asking, “you going to hang out there all night?”

He quirked an eyebrow. Obviously, he wasn't going to even try entering without an explicit invite. Was he still worried that she would keep him out? Did he think she was such a horrible person that she would rub his lack of invitation in her face?

She forced herself to temper her frustration. Of _course,_ she got the vampire with self-esteem issues. Actually biting her tongue to prevent herself from snarking at him, she took a calming breath, gave a gentle smile and held out a hand.

“Come in, Spike.”

It seemed like she had read him correctly – he was through the window and pulling her close before she had finished saying his name.

Their lips met and the frenzied passion that had all but vanished when they left the crypt returned. She was gasping, desperate for more, unable to get close enough. Then suddenly he was stepping away, holding her at arm's length and burning her with his gaze.

“'m gonna make you scream, Slayer” he purred, trailing a finger from her collarbone to the cleft between her breasts.

The predatory tone set her slayer senses into overdrive, the tingles in her neck that always screamed _Spike_ shivered down her spine and set a fire in her belly. She could barely think, but there was something in his words that made her uneasy. Oh, right -

“No! Need to be quiet – Mom and Dawn...”

She was barely coherent, overcome with lust and _need_ for the vampire in front of her, but he understood her meaning.

“Can be quiet as a mouse, luv. Question is, can you?”

She tried to glare at him but didn't think it worked very well. Satisfied that she had said everything she needed to, she stepped back into his personal space.

She ran her hands up under his duster and across his shoulders, pushing it down his arms to meet the floor in a puddle of black leather. Spike retaliated by reaching down and impatiently tugging her top over her head.

He took a half-step back as his hands swiftly undid the clasp of her bra. While the red lace fluttered to the floor, he let his eyes roam hungrily over her chest.

“Such pretty little titties,” he murmured as he leant forward to claim one with his mouth.

Buffy could only thread her fingers through his hair and close her eyes as he worshipped her breasts. She wasn't really aware of his hands on the waistband of her jeans, barely noticing as he pushed them down over her hips and slipped them off along with her shoes. She couldn't focus on anything but his talented tongue. At least, not until his mouth left her nipples, hard and aching with need, and trailed down to worry the top of her silky panties with his teeth.

Overcome with a need to _feel_ him, Buffy pulled up gently with the hand that was still tangled in his curls. He got the message and rose back up to his feet.

She claimed his lips, hungrily, as her own hands fumbled with the hem of his t-shirt. Finally managing to get it up and over his head, she thought she heard something tear with her impatient tugging.

At last his chest was as naked as her own and she pulled him closer. She peppered his mouth with breathy, needy, kisses. Her fingertips dug into the hard muscles of his back. For a long minute she simply luxuriated in the feel of skin on skin as their tongues emulated the dance to come.

He walked her back until her knees hit the mattress and she sat reflexively. Her frustration at the loss of contact didn't last when she realised that she was now eye-level with his sculpted abs.

Buffy dipped her head forward, letting her tongue dance wetly across his twitching muscles. Above her the vampire groaned, sending shivers down her spine as her fingers deftly worked the fastenings of his jeans.

Buffy couldn't help the hitch in her breath as his cock sprang free, unconsciously licking her lips. Before she could do anything further, Spike pushed firmly against her shoulders and she fell back onto the mattress.

The vampire made short work removing his boots. His eyes never left hers as he stepped out of his jeans to stand gloriously naked before her.

With a wave of his graceful fingers, he indicated that she should move further up the bed. She didn't think before complying, easing herself up the mattress until her head hit the pillows.

Spike moved with predatory slowness up her body. Never before had such attention been paid to her feet, ankles, calves. By the time he reached the top of her thighs she was overcome with anticipation. Her hips just about leapt off the bed when he finally swept his tongue over her still covered labia.

“Need to taste you, luv”

She was too needy to give a coherent response. Not that he waited for one. With a quick flick of his wrist her panties were torn away. She eagerly opened up for him, keening softly when he finally made contact with her throbbing clit.

Riley had always made oral sex seem like a chore. Spike's expression was the very definition of rapture. He made her feel beautiful and unashamed.

She couldn't help but watch. His expressive eyes fixed on hers as he set upon her with lips and teeth and tongue. Always focused; learning what she liked, what made her squirm. When he had her panting and desperate for more, his fingers began to tickle around her entrance with light teasing touches that never quite penetrated her the way she needed.

He was a horrible tease. Somewhere beneath the haze of lust and passion and desire, Buffy swore that she would have her revenge. There might even be chains.

The thought was fleeting, though. It was impossible for her to focus through the ever-swelling tide of pleasure. Her need to climax was almost painful, the stupid vampire keeping her teetering on that edge for deliciously torturous minutes.

Finally, he lifted his head. Grinning up at her, like the cat who nicked a whole steak from the dinner table, he sensuously licked his lips.

“You gonna be able to keep quiet, pet?”

That was all the warning she got. With a smirk he had redoubled his efforts, suckling her nubbin while thrusting two fingers deep inside. She came. Hard.

Somehow, Buffy succeeded in clenching her jaw and holding back the scream that bubbled up in her throat. Being quiet was never something she had needed to worry about before. The few times that she had had sex in her mother's house, she had always managed to maintain complete control.

With Spike, she had handed over the reins the moment he slipped through her window. It was by far the most freeing sexual experience of her life.

As she came back to herself, she opened her eyes and met glittering blue. Spike was still lapping lazily at her slit, prolonging the pleasure as he brought her back down from her high. She smiled at him as he placed a last, lingering kiss between her legs.

Buffy lay back against the pillows and watched as Spike trailed a mixture of soft kisses, licks and nibbles up her still-trembling body. She was lost in sensation, overstimulated by the combination of trembling aftershocks and the new desire his attentions were kindling.

She was starting to understand why people made such a big deal about sex.

He was suckling at one breast while his left hand pinched and tweaked the nipple of the other. She met his eyes, midnight blue with lust, and he lurched up her body to capture her lips in a searing kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue and her desire spiked again.

He drew back infinitesimally to whisper a plea against her lips.

“Need you, kitten. Let me in.”

His hips shifted against hers, hard cock pressing against her centre. Buffy lost all ability to speak as he rubbed himself against her, closing her eyes with a groan as he made contact with her clit.

She might have nodded when she recaptured his lips. She wasn't certain if the thought had made it into action. The hand snaking down and positioning him at her opening made her permission clear enough.

He was an evil bastard. Now, when he was _finally_ where she had wanted him ever since their tryst at the crypt earlier that evening, when she _needed_ with every fibre of her being to feel him stretching and filling her, he returned to his game of torturing her with pleasure.

She whimpered against his lips as he entered her with agonising slowness. He was the most impatient person she knew and _now_ he was taking his time. She couldn't bear it.

“Please, Spike, need you,” she begged.

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye as for once he did as he was told, surging forward until their pelvises crashed together.

It was perfect.

Spike began to thrust slowly, forcefully. It was measured violence and gentle intimacy; a physicality that no human would have been able to achieve. It was something she had never realised that her slayer side craved.

They moved together with languid intensity. The initial desperate lust was somehow forgotten as they lost themselves in the emotional connection.

Spike smiled against her, pressing one last fleeting kiss to her lips before turning his attention along her jaw and down her throat. Buffy was surprised at how thoroughly unconcerned she was when the vampire's mouth traced her jugular.

He moved from where he had been lavishing the left side of her neck, leaving a path of open mouthed kisses as he went to pay equal homage to the right. She was not expecting him to pull back with a growl.

“Jesus, Slayer, just how many vamps have you let at you?”

Buffy huffed, not impressed with the interruption.

“You know about Dracula.”

“Poofter.”

“The Master -”

“Old Batface got his fangs into you? Why aren't you dead?”

“I was. That's why we have two slayers. Then Angel -”

Really, she should have expected the growling and his snarling interruption.

“Angelus bit you?”

His tone was dangerous, possessive. She sighed. This was _really_ not something she wanted to discuss while naked in bed with Spike. When he was _inside_ her.

“ _Angel_ bit me. It was the only way to save him. I know it was stupid, but can we _please_ talk about it another time?”

He didn't seem aware of the low growl he was emitting as he stared at the marks left on her neck by three people he truly hated. She threaded her fingers through his mussed curls and drew him up for a kiss.

“They don't matter anymore. I dusted Dracula and the Master, and Angel left. I'm here with _you_. You are the only vamp that matters to me. The only one whose mark I would be proud to wear.”

“Do- do you mean... you'd let me bite you?”

“I trust you, Spike.”

She trailed a finger down the unmarked left side of her neck.

“This side is yours,” she whispered. “Make me yours.”

Her words were the trigger and Spike couldn't stop his demon from coming to the surface. The woman he loved had asked for his mark and he was too weak to resist the demon's need to complete the ritual.

Buffy was shocked when he turned his head to her right side. Understanding dawned when she felt the prick of his fangs perfectly over the mark Angel had left. He bit down slightly, replacing the other vamp's mark with his own. He drew back and repeated the process twice more, writing over all three bites and sealing the shallow punctures with his tongue.

Then he made his way back across her throat, once more lavishing attention on the left. His hips started to pump again, hard and possessive, each thrust crushing her clit with his pubic bone. Somehow, he brought her to the brink of orgasm in moments.

When she started to pant, gasping on the cusp of climax, he struck. His fangs sunk deep into her jugular and the sensation of the double penetration sent her flying over the brink of ecstasy.

Spike was almost overcome with bliss as he followed his girl over the edge. His mouth filled with the sweet and oh-so-powerful slayer blood, and he allowed himself three leisurely sips before withdrawing his fangs and lapping at the wound, sealing it. He turned his attention back to Buffy's face. She was a picture of sleepily sated perfection. Her eyes were hooded, fighting sleep, and he locked their gazes.

“Mine!”

The growled exclamation demanded a response and the Slayer didn't hesitate in her reply.

“Yours, only yours,” she spoke as her eyes drifted shut and sleep claimed her.

Spike's demon receded, and his eyes filled with tears. He lay over her, panting with overwhelming emotion, trying to process what had just happened. After a minute he realised that he was crushing Buffy and reluctantly withdrew, rolling onto his back and drawing his sleeping mate to his side.

In moments, he joined her in her dreams.


	4. Reciprocal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated apple, pomegranate, passion fruit.

Buffy woke from probably the best sleep of her entire life. She stretched languidly against the firm body of her lover, practically purring her pleasure.

Spike lay unnaturally still beneath her. She assumed that meant he was asleep. It was surreal; she had never imagined that the ever-energetic vampire was capable of such stillness, even in sleep.

She propped herself up in the bed, unable to go another minute without looking at his beautiful face, and was shocked to find herself looking into a pair of wide, worried eyes.

“You're awake?”

She realised the ridiculousness of the question but couldn't help herself from asking. He raised an eyebrow in reply.

“What's wrong?”

Spike had woken hours ago, not used to sleeping at this time of night, and had spent that time watching the beautiful girl sleep in his arms as he panicked. There was no way his rash actions of the night before weren't going to get him into trouble.

He looked away, unable to maintain eye contact as he attempted to answer in anguished stutters.

“'m sorry. Never meant... but you said... and I couldn't help...”

She laid three fingers over his lips, silencing him.

“Look at me, Spike.” She waited until he caught her gaze. “I need you to tell me what happened. What didn't you mean? What did I say?”

Spike stared at her, incredulous. How could she not know? Did she not remember what he had done?

“What do you mean what happened? You were there, weren't you?”

Buffy furrowed her brow, trying to understand what the vampire was fussing about. Everything about last night had been amazing. It eventually occurred to her that he was wary of her reaction to him getting his fangs out.

“You mean the biting? You do remember me asking for it, right? Are you worried I didn't like it, coz I'll tell you now -”

Spike cut her off mid-sentence. She really had no clue.

“Slayer, what did your Watcher teach you about vampire bites?”

Buffy gave him a look. The 'are you really seriously asking me that' look. What did he _think_ Giles would have told her?

“Er.. avoid them?”

Apparently, that was the wrong answer. Spike sat up, staring down at her with furious disbelief. She could almost hear the shout that he withheld from his response, amazingly still aware of the need to keep quiet.

“That it?! He never covered any vamp lore? Ritual bites?”

Buffy looked at him with wide-eyed surprise. “Vampires have laws?”

Spike buried his face in his hands and groaned. How was this happening? He didn't generally make assumptions but considering her history with the souled wanker he hadn't even considered that she wouldn't _know._

Slowly, he lifted his head. He struggled to force his words past the lump that had grown to fill his throat.

“You mean to tell me that you dated a vampire for _years_ , which your Watcher was fully aware of, and he _never_ told you anything about vampires beyond 'avoid the teeth, aim for the heart'?”

She was looking at him with such honest curiosity, such trust. He didn't want to hear her naïve questions. It hurt him to know how painful his answers would be.

“Isn't that all I need to know?”

The vampire sighed, resigned to doing the Watcher's job. The lesson that should have been one of her first – or at the very least covered immediately after Angel joined the team. Definitely once it became clear that he and Buffy were a couple. Focusing on his frustration with the incompetent pillocks, he managed to get himself back under control. All the better to break her heart.

“Buffy, luv, there is so much you need to know. God, if Drac had known how clueless you were... you're just lucky that the ponce has his shiny soul to keep him in check.”

Finally, she seemed to realise that there was something seriously wrong.

“Spike, what on Earth are you talking about? You're starting to scare me!”

He growled and snarled down at her, unable to rein in his frustration any longer.

“You should be bloody scared! You let three vamps who didn't want you dead put their teeth in you! And you don't even know how stupid you were being!”

Buffy started tearing up at his forceful words. It's not like she could help her ignorance – by the sounds of it there was some very important information that both Giles and Angel should have made sure she was aware of years ago.

Spike couldn't ignore her pain. He cupped her cheek with his palm, his thumb sweeping the first traces of tears from her eyes.

“Sorry, luv. It's not your fault. Shouldn'ta taken it out on you.”

She gave him a watery smile, thankful for the apology. She managed to muster some bravado and put a little sass into her next words.

“I get the feeling that I'm missing some really basic knowledge about vampires and biting.”

Spike gave a wry chuckle.

“Yeah. I'm sorry, love. If I'd known, I'd have never -”

She stopped him with a finger to his lips, cutting off the apology she still didn't understand the need for.

“Spike, start at the beginning.”

He drew her hand away from his mouth, threading his fingers through hers and guiding her palm to cup his cheek. Drawing strength from her acceptance of his affection, he began to explain.

“Right you are, Slayer. First off, there's more than one type of biting for a vamp. What you generally see is just a feeding bite. Like wot Old Batface did to you, most like. Biting to take blood and gain strength.

“Then you got sexy biting. That's what Drac did, I'll bet.” He held up a hand to forestall her argument. “Doesn't _have_ to be during sex - I know you didn't sleep with the poncy bugger. Just means a bite that gives sexual pleasure. Usually a lot if you're shagging, not so much if clothes are on, but it always feels good. Like in the bite houses – people wouldn't come back for more if they didn't _like_ it.

“Lastly, there's claims.” He paused, obviously struggling to put his thoughts into words.

“Claims are binding. A one-way claim is something avoided by any vamp with sense. It's... a connection that ties the demons together. Permanently. It's rarely done, because vamps aren't usually ones for that kind of commitment. Plus, the level of trust needed... if only one person completes the bond then...

“The claimed person essentially bonds themselves to their partner forever. Monogamously. In a reciprocated claim, it's like marriage. Where you never need to worry about your partner being unfaithful, because it is literally impossible.”

Buffy smiled at the thought of that.

“Sounds kind of nice. I'm still not sure why you're so upset.”

Spike grit his teeth, looking up at the ceiling as if praying for strength. It took some effort, but he managed to keep most of the anger and frustration from his tone as he answered.

“Because, you stupid chit, you initiated a claim with me last night. When you asked me to make you mine, you started the ritual and my demon accepted. Right now, you are bonded to me forever and I have absolutely no obligation towards you because the claim is one sided! Just imagine if Drac had caught you in a claim. Or Angelus.”

Buffy started shaking as cold dread slithered down her spine and the horrifying idea of what could have been began to sink in. Thank God this happened with _Spike._

“You're bloody lucky that I love you.”

The bond between them was fresh and raw and Spike was overwhelmed by the sheer terror his mate was feeling. He was relieved when she allowed him to pull her into his lap and wrap his arms around her.

Instinctively he nuzzled his mark and felt the instant calming effect it had on her body.

“I love you, Buffy. I never wanted to hurt you. I would never have allowed myself to claim you if I knew you didn't understand what you were asking for. I'm so sorry. I know you'll never forgive me...”

Buffy pulled back so that she could see his face. She cupped his cheek again and looked into his tear-glazed eyes. There was such depth of emotion there, such _love._ How could she ever have doubted him capable of feeling.

“There is one way you can earn my forgiveness,” she whispered.

Spike looked at her as a man lost in the desert would look at a jug of fresh water. His answer was swift, desperate.

“Name it.”

She knew there was no way out now. It was something she had known and accepted on some level even as she waited for him to tell her what she had done.

She was tied to this vampire for the rest of her life. She would know no other lover, and that thought didn't upset her in the slightest. It was the thought of him returning to Dru or – God forbid – _Harmony_ made her stomach clench and her heart cry out.

She knew what she had to ask of him, and could only hope that the love he felt for her was enough, that he would accept her.

“Let me complete the claim. If I'm going to be stuck with you forever, I want it to be as equals.”

Spike's eyes lit up, as if she had offered him the most precious gift in the world.

“Oh, Buffy! I never thought – you mean it?”

Her heart clenched with the thrill of his acceptance. She hadn't believed he would choose her. Everyone always left. That he would allow her to return the claim, to bind them together so that he could not leave her, soothed her soul in a way she couldn't put into words.

Instead, she kissed him softly and asked, “What do I have to do?”

Spike lay back against the pillows, the hands on her waist moving her so that she straddled his hips. One hand threaded into the hair at the back of her neck, pulling her down to a steamy kiss.

The other snaked between their bodies, fingers slipping between her folds and teasing her until all of the fear-induced tension was burned away by raging lust.

When he was sure she was ready for him, he guided her hips up and pressed his throbbing erection to her entrance. Without hesitating she sank down, drawing him into herself.

They rocked together for a moment. He used the hand at her nape to draw her reluctantly away from his lips. Holding her green eyes with his own, he smiled up at her.

“Make me yours, love.”

Buffy moved with instinctive certainty. She had been concerned when Spike hadn't bothered to explain the ritual but now she understood that there was no need. As soon as the words left his mouth, something inside her accepted his offer. She didn't even think as she sought the distinctive mark left by his sire and bit down, hard. Eradicating it. Replacing it with her own.

Then she moved across his throat, as he had the night before, and bit down again. Harder. The first had barely broken the skin, but this bite needed to go deeper. Her mouth filled with the coppery tang of his borrowed blood as his orgasm filled her with his dead seed.

She would have expected to be disgusted, as she had when she tasted Dracula. She did not expect to be flooded with the most intense _lustneedhunger_ she had ever experienced. She was barely aware of swallowing the blood, drawing back and growling a possessive “Mine!”

Nor was she expecting the mind-blowing orgasm that hit her with Spike's reply of “Yours, my love. Only yours.” before he swallowed her scream with a searing kiss.

She collapsed on top of him, overcome with sensation. When he accepted her claim, it was as if a part of her had opened up to him. She could _feel_ him, an awareness in the back of her mind, like a conscious rendering of her vampire tinglies.

It wasn't mind reading. She couldn't tell what he was thinking (not that either of them were capable of thinking much at this point) she was just aware. Of him, his proximity, that he was safe, alive, hers. She knew what he was feeling, too. He was sated, at peace, blissfully happy.

She closed her eyes and kissed the mark she had made on his neck, letting his emotions flow over her as she basked in their closeness, still intimately joined.

Neither slept this time, aware that sunrise would be upon them shortly. As much as both of them would have happily spent the day wrapped up in each others arms, Spike was aware that he was still somewhat persona non grata with the Summers matriarch at the moment.

Eventually he broke the silence.

“Buffy, love, I should get going. Don't think Mum would be too happy to find me here right now.”

The Slayer tightened her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled deeper into his neck, mumbling her disapproval.

“Nuh-uh, you're mine now, you don't get to leave.”

The devious little minx emphasised her point by clenching her internal muscles around him. His cock was instantly, painfully hard.

“Buffy,” he groaned, trying very hard to maintain the voice of reason. “'m not leaving you. Just going back to my crypt for a bit. Let you speak to your mum before she gets her axe out on me.”

She shifted her hips and he thrust up involuntarily. He couldn't focus any more, the pleasure taking away his thoughts, but kept talking anyway.

“Sweetheart,” he panted, “God, Buffy, so warm... you burn me up, kitten.”

Buffy gave him a brief kiss before sitting upright, pulling him up after her so that she was straddling his lap, chests pressed together. The angle was new, intense, hitting that perfect spot inside her every time she impaled herself on him.

It wasn't long before she once more reached her peak, biting down on his shoulder to keep quiet. She hit her claim mark with unerring accuracy and was completely unsurprised to feel Spike's fangs pierce his own mark as he came. After a moment, they drew back and simultaneously murmured a forceful “Mine!” and answering “Yours!”, reinforcing their claim and secure in the knowledge that this time they both understood what it meant.

They held each other a few moments longer before Spike reluctantly drew back.

“I hate to say this, pet, but I really need to go. Sun's up in 'bout twenty minutes.”

Buffy pouted. She understood, but that didn't mean she had to like it!

Spike couldn't resist sucking her jutting lower lip into his mouth, even as his strong hands lifted her gently from his lap. When she was gasping for air, he stood and quickly donned his jeans. A little searching unearthed his t-shirt under the Slayer's discarded trousers.

Far too soon, he was fully dressed and ready to go. Resisting temptation, he pressed a heartfelt kiss to her forehead before sweeping out of the window with a whispered promise.

“I'll be waiting for you.”


	5. A Visit With Giles

Buffy had spent a lazy couple of hours in bed. She decided that being wrapped up warm in a bed that smelt of Spike and sex, submerged in her new awareness of him, was almost as good as lying curled up in his arms. 

Or at least it was, until Dawn decided that her sister was becoming a hermit and started hammering on the door. With great reluctance, Buffy got up and dressed. She didn't shower. Even though it was gross, the bond between them was still too new for her to feel comfortable washing his scent off when she was facing a day without him. 

She tied her hair into a loose tail at the nape of her neck and spent a moment admiring the mark he had given her. Somehow, despite being re-opened only hours before, it had already healed into a faintly-pink scar. Even with slayer healing that wasn't normal. 

It didn't look like a fresh wound, but it _was_ new and very visible, and Buffy really didn't want to explain another vampire bite appearing overnight. She didn't think her mom would be quite so willing to see it as a sign of affection after the previous night's fiasco. Reluctantly, she picked up a scarf and arranged it artfully around her neck, making sure that the bite was hidden.

***

It was now nearly sunset, and Buffy was feeling antsy. Her mom and sister had spent the day with her, watching bad romance movies and eating far too much popcorn and ice-cream. It would have been the perfect show of support if she were actually still upset over the whole mess with the chains and the death threats.

Unfortunately, she wasn't. She had tried several times already to explain to her family that she was fine – _more than fine_ – but her mom was certain that she was in denial and her sister was happy to go along with that so long as the movie marathon and junk food banquet continued.

Now, she was itching to get out. She had put her foot down at the end of the last film, insisting that she needed to patrol. It wasn't dark yet, though, so she had retreated to her room to pace off her nervous energy. 

She could feel Spike in the back of her mind. He was just waking up, sleepy and content. He reached out, a mental caress, and she found herself instantly calmer. 

She caught sight of herself in the mirror and frowned. Spike wouldn't be happy if she turned up with a scarf hiding his mark. Buffy realised that she wasn't happy with that, either. It was one thing to cover the bite and prevent her mother from panicking before she had heard a proper explanation. It was quite another to show up at his crypt as if she were ashamed.

As the last curve of the sun sank below the horizon, Buffy removed the scarf and let her hair down from the low ponytail she had been wearing all day. Brushing her hair out, she knew it would be enough so long as she didn't let her mom or sister too close as she was leaving. Plus, Spike loved to play with her hair.

It was dark now, and she rushed out of the house with a brief call of farewell to her family. 

She was almost at the crypt when she felt it. Buffy knew this feeling. It was like a wash of magic and the realisation that her thoughts were her own again, despite never knowing she had lost control in the first place. It was pretty much identical to coming back to reality after the Will be Done spell.

It hurt. Her brain was once more filled with disgust and loathing and hatred. There was a certainty, a surety that vampires had no feelings, were incapable of love. She knew these were her thoughts and it cut her to her very core to know that she had honestly believed that about Spike.

Her Spike. The spell ending couldn't stop the Claim. The pain she was feeling, her words and returned beliefs hurting like no physical wound could, knowing how wrong she was. She couldn't deny that now, because she could still _feel_ him. 

His heart was laid bare to her, and she knew that right now he was panicking. He knew, too, she realised. They had been under a spell and it had left them bound to each other forever. 

Buffy ran. Across the graveyard, leaping over headstones in her need to find the fastest route. 

She slammed into the crypt, the door clashing harshly against the stone wall as she threw it open. Spike was slumped dejectedly, head in hands, taking deep shuddering breaths as he sat on the stone sarcophagus. Buffy only took the barest second to notice his position before crossing the room. She wrapped her arms firmly around his back, holding him close and pressing a hard kiss against the mark she had left on his neck. He instantly calmed, much the way she had earlier that morning when he had brought her out of her own panic. 

His arms found their way around her back and they held each other in silence for a long moment. Buffy focused on the connection between them and hoped he could understand what she was feeling. She didn't think it was possible to put it all into words. 

Spike just held her, overwhelmed. He had felt the magic, realised that they had been under a spell. Then their claim link had been flooded by pain. His mate was hurting, and he was positive that she had remembered her hatred for him and was now lamenting the situation she found herself in.

When she barged into his home, he expected a swift stake to the heart. He was shocked when instead, she held him close and acknowledged her claim on him. It was impossible to withhold the tears that slid down his cheeks as she accepted his own embrace and left her feelings open to him.

After a while, Buffy pulled back and growled.

“Willow!” Buffy shook her head. “Of course it was Willow. To really cause mayhem takes Willow's special brand of magic.”

There had been more than a few incidents since her beloved friend had taken up magic as her own 'super power'. Willow had come a long way from floating pencils! But this! This took the cake. The cake, the ice-cream, party hats and 'My Little Pony' party favours. 

Really, who needed enemies when your own friends could cause such havoc?

Spike nodded grimly.

“This has Red's thoughtless abuse of power stamped all over it. I wonder what went wrong this time – I can't imagine she planned for you to fuck me. Goes against all those little white-hat morals.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Don't be crude, Spike.”

The vampire grinned unrepentantly and kissed her on the nose. Buffy couldn't help smiling at his antics, resting her forehead back on his shoulder.

After a moment of thought, she looked back up.

“At least this will make explaining things to Mom a bit easier.”

Spike pulled back. She didn't need to be able to feel him to know that her words had upset him – it was written all over his expressive face.

“You didn't tell Mum?”

She tried to reach out to him and let him feel that she wasn't ashamed of him but wasn't sure how successful she was. 

“I tried,” she insisted. “Mom didn't want to hear it. She kept telling me that I was suppressing my true feelings and trying to help me get over the trauma of being chained up by an idiotic vampire by force-feeding me ice-cream.”

Spike tried but couldn't prevent the chuckle from escaping at the petulant whine her voice devolved into. 

“'s alright, pet.” He paused for a moment, shifting nervously on the sarcophagus. “Did I mention I was sorry for the chains?”

Buffy caught his gaze. “I'm not.” At his perplexed look, she continued. “It got Willow to do whatever hocus pocus she decided to do and that gave me you. I can't be sorry for that.”

The Slayer had barely a heartbeat to feel self-conscious about the ridiculous level of sappiness she in her words before her mind and lips were stolen in a consuming kiss. 

***

The vampire and his Slayer strolled casually through Restfield cemetery in the vague direction of Giles' apartment. It wasn't too dissimilar to their previous joint patrols if you discounted his arm around her shoulder, tucking her securely into his side.

They were currently engaged in a fiercely whispered debate over how exactly they should break the news to her Watcher. 

Spike was very much a proponent of jumping straight in and rubbing the older man's face in the consequences of his idiocy and why he should have ensured that his Slayer was aware of every aspect vampire lore. 

Buffy was more inclined to break the news a little more gently, starting with the magical intervention and hopefully deflecting a lot of the older man's wroth onto her witchy friend. 

Both were in agreement that Willow desperately needed to both learn control and how to use her power in an ethical manner. 

They still hadn't completely agreed on a strategy when they knocked on his front door twenty minutes later. However, when Buffy pointed out that gloating about the fact he had bitten the Slayer was probably not the wisest course of action to take with an overprotective Watcher, Spike had reluctantly agreed to let her drop that particular bombshell.

She had also convinced him that they would have a better chance of a civilised conversation if they weren't found cuddling on the doorstep. This was uncomfortable for both of them, since the newness of their bond made it almost painful to resist physical shows of affection.

Giles opened the door and, on seeing the two together, immediately sputtered a panicked “what's wrong?”

Buffy tried to give a disarming smile. “Nothing!” she squeaked, like a child caught misbehaving. “Or at least, nothing _bad._ Well, bits of it are bad, but not _apocalypse_ -bad. Or at least, I hope not -”

Giles stopped her mid-rambling with a look. Spike was duly impressed.

“How about you both come inside, and you can start explaining from the beginning. Maybe then I will have some hope of understanding to what exactly I owe this unexpected visit.”

The couple passed through the door and Giles headed for the kitchen to put on a pot of tea. Something told him he would need it to get through the coming conversation.

When he returned bearing a tray laden with teapot and cups he was unsurprised to see the vampire lounging on his sofa as if he owned it. He was a little more surprised to see that his Slayer had chosen to perch stiffly beside the vampire, rather than take her usual place as far from him as possible.

“So,” he said as he laid the tray down on the coffee table. “What's wrong?”

Buffy wrung her hands in her lap and leaned towards him as she spoke with slow, considered words.

“Someone put us under a spell. I'm pretty sure that it was Willow trying to be helpful.”

Giles paled. He knew very well the sort of thing that happened when Willow started magically interfering in her friends' lives.

“Dear Lord, are you ok? What did she do this time?”

Buffy gave him a weak smile that did little to reassure him that all was well. 

“I have no idea what she was trying to do but it definitely went wrong. I doubt she intended to change my entire outlook on vampires and souls and love.”

Giles had a sinking feeling that he now understood why Buffy was sitting next to Spike. He _really_ hoped that he was wrong.

“What precisely are you trying to say?”

The Slayer and vampire shared a look that did everything to confirm the Watcher's deepest fears. 

“This evening, I felt a rush of magic and a load of thoughts and feelings that I had forgotten I ever had came back. It was almost exactly like the end of the Will be Done spell, except different. Then, I lost the belief that I loved Spike and we were going to be married. This time, I remembered that I _know_ vampires can't love without a soul so there was no way that Spike could love me.

“Except I am certain now that that is wrong. Because he does love me – I can feel it.”

Giles felt sick. There was only one way he could think to explain how Buffy could _feel_ Spike's emotions. He had lived for two long years with the horrifying dread that she would be that stupid with Angel. He had never _considered_ that anything of the sort would happen with Spike of all people. 

He turned a fierce glare to the vampire feigning nonchalance. 

“You dared Claim my Slayer?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for a challenge and the prompt appears in this chapter. 
> 
> “Willow!” Buffy shook her head. “Of course it was Willow. To really cause mayhem takes Willow's special brand of magic.”  
> There had been more than a few incidents since her beloved friend had taken up magic as her own 'super power'. Willow had come a long way from floating pencils! But this! This took the cake. The cake, the ice-cream, party hats and 'My Little Pony' party favours.   
> Really, who needed enemies when your own friends could cause such havoc?


	6. The Slayer Handbook

“You dared Claim my Slayer?” 

Spike tensed slightly, but didn't move from his position of comfortable lounging. He looked defiantly at the Watcher as he spoke with casual nonchalance.

“To be fair, Rupes, she asked.”

Buffy's reaction was instinctive and immediate.

“I didn't mean to!”

As much as he disliked her words, Spike accepted them. It wasn't a rejection. It was fact. A fact made much more comfortable to acknowledge because her reciprocated claim was offered with full understanding of what she was asking.

“What do you mean, you didn't mean to?”

Buffy looked at him like he was being an idiot. Surely the answer was obvious, as indicated by the heavy note of petulance in her tone. 

“Well, it's not like anyone ever _told_ me about vampire bites.”

Giles sputtered.

“What do you mean? It is one of the first topics covered in the Slayer handbook.”

Buffy gave him a _look_. The one that said he was being a particularly dim-witted old man. The one usually reserved for his inability to follow teenage gossip.

“You never _gave_ me the Slayer handbook.”

Giles removed his glasses and began to polish them vigorously. 

“You mean to tell me that you _actually_ never read it? I was certain that you were just saying that to wind up your new Watcher.”

Buffy was getting frustrated now. She felt a cool hand press against her spine and leaned back into Spike's comforting gesture. Much more calmly that she had initially planned, she asked.

“How would I have read it if you never gave it to me?”

Giles replaced his glasses and affected what Buffy lovingly referred to as his 'stuffy lecturing Watcher' pose.

“The Handbook is the first thing given to a new Slayer when she is Called. I simply presumed that my predecessor had followed protocol and that you were already in possession of a copy.”

The anger that had been slowly simmering since her conversation with Spike in the early hours of that morning fizzled out when she heard that. It wasn't an unreasonable assumption after all. It made sense. And pretending to Giles that she had never read it was totally the sort of thing her sixteen year old self would have done. 

She might not like it, but she understood. It might have been protocol, but Merrick had barely introduced her to the existence of vampires before Lothos came calling, so he could be forgiven for not finding the time to give her what promised to be a stuffy book that would have doubtless been read only under duress.

“Oh. I guess Merrick didn't have a chance to give it to me before he...”

She drifted off, not liking to talk about the death of her first Watcher. She moved to sit back on the sofa, unconsciously shifting closer to the soothing presence of her vampire.

Giles tried not to notice as he made to explain himself. 

“Regardless, I should have made sure. As your watcher it is my duty to ensure that you know these things, and I am afraid that I have failed you terribly in this regard. I should have talked to you about this – especially when you started seeing Angel – to make sure that you understood, but at the time I was terrified that you would get caught up in the romance of the idea and was loath to remind you of the possibility.”

Buffy and Spike both winced at the idea. The fact was, she probably would have done something stupid then had she known it was possible. Even now, her first reaction to finding out about reciprocated claims had been to think how safe and freeing such a relationship would be. The thought that she might have chosen to instigate one the night Angel lost his soul was, frankly, terrifying.

“Thank you, Giles. You definitely did the right thing.”

Spike moved his hand up to drape over her shoulders, using the action to draw her into his side. All the thoughts of Angelus were making him jittery.

“We can play the blame game some more later, Watcher. For now, there are more important matters to discuss – namely one arrogant little witch who thinks it is all fun and games to play with people's love lives.”

Giles looked reluctant to change the direction of the conversation. Eventually he agreed with a short not.

“Indeed. First, though, I must ask. Buffy... are you – do you – is this a situation that you can be happy in?”

Buffy snuggled back into her vampire's embrace.

“Honestly, Giles, I couldn't be happier.”

Spike would have laughed at the Watcher's expression if he thought he could get away with it. It was obvious that the other man was struggling with what was both the best and worst answer that Buffy could have given him. Across his face, hatred for the fact she was now eternally bound to a vampire warred with the relief he was obviously feeling for the fact that she wasn't traumatised or unhappy with said bonding.

Instead, he tried once more to redirect their conversation back to the more important matter of a spell-happy young witch.

“I want to know what the spell was. What was she trying to do that she changed Buffy so much? Much 's I don't want to see 'er any time soon, we need to speak to Red.”

Giles nodded and got up from his seat. He was headed over to the phone when Buffy interrupted.

“Wait, Giles. Can you do something? Make sure she can't do any magic right now?”

The Watcher paused half-way across the room and looked over with an expression of utter incredulity.

“Why on Earth would you ask me to do a thing like that?”

Buffy looked down, uncomfortable with the reality of the situation.

“Because it's Willow. She made a mistake, put me into this situation. She's gonna want to fix it.”

Spike felt an icy rush of terror shiver down his spine at her words. The idea that the witch might try to break their Claim to 'undo' the consequences of her wayward spell casting was utterly horrifying and entirely believable. 

He was almost oblivious to the Watcher's uttered “Dear Lord!” as he gathered his Slayer into his lap. He pulled her close and nuzzled his mark, reassuring himself with the direct contact to his claim on her. She returned the gesture before settling comfortably against his chest. 

Giles turned away from their intimate display with a wince. This time, he headed towards his bookshelves to research magic-binding spells. It was always a good idea to listen to the Slayer's instincts.

Buffy and Spike sat silently wrapped around each other. Eventually Giles suggested that they go and do whatever they were doing somewhere that _wasn't_ his sofa and they took the not-so-subtle hint to leave.

Now they were once more strolling through a graveyard in whispered debate. 

Buffy was all for going back to Spike's crypt and reaffirming their Claim. Spike was, frustratingly, determined that she not worry her mother by staying out too late and was insisting on walking her home.

Unfortunately, since capitulating in their earlier argument, Spike was absolutely determined to win this time.

“Look, Slayer, I'm trying to do right by you here. You know Mum's gonna worry and I don't want to give her any more reason not to trust me with her daughter. I already messed that up rather spectacularly.”

Buffy melted a little at his words. She knew he was right, unfortunately.

“Fine. Let's go home. We need to explain everything to Mom anyhow. Maybe she'll be willing to listen this time.”

Buffy wasn't really sure that Joyce would be any more receptive to her change in attitude than she had been that morning. Spike being there was almost certainly going to start an argument. But the Slayer didn't really care. She needed him with her right now - both as moral support in telling her mother, and because the very idea that Willow might try and undo their claim was still haunting her.

She wasn't sure whether it was some aspect of the claim or just his usual perceptive self that let Spike voice her own thoughts on the matter.

“I don' think I'm gonna be much help in convincin' Joyce. Likely get her hackles up. You sure I should come?” 

Buffy just gripped his hand with bone-crushing force in a silent demonstration of the necessity of his presence.

“I know. I just need you close right now. And it might not be so bad as we think; you _are_ much better at charming my mother than I am.”

They strolled in comfortable silence all the way back to Revello Drive.

It wasn't exceptionally late when they arrived. Sure it had been a few hours since Buffy rushed out of the house just before the spell ended, but it was nearer winter than summer and the evening started early.

Joyce was still up, watching TV and rather obviously waiting for her eldest daughter to come home. Dawn was, theoretically, in bed when they arrived. Buffy really hoped the irritating little brat would at least have the decency to stay in her room while they talked with her mom.

The Summers matriarch looked over with a smile when she heard the front door open, which dropped into a cold mask when she noticed who had accompanied her daughter across the threshold without an invitation. She stood and took a couple of steps towards the door.

“Buffy, what is he doing here? I thought I made my position quite clear that I didn't want someone who thinks chaining my daughter up is acceptable to have free access to my house.”

Spike was definitely doing the vampire equivalent of blushing bright red. His skintone didn't change (no circulation) but the flustered expression and bashful lowering of his eyes more than made up for it.

“I'm really sorry about that, Joyce. I – well, I was being stupid and you have my word that I'll never even consider chaining your daughter up like that again.”

Buffy could almost feel his addendum flowing through the back of her mind: _leastwise, not without her consent._

The Slayer's mother was not impressed with the naughty schoolboy act. She finally understood that he was the dangerous being that the children had always insisted Spike to be, not just a hot cocoa buddy. 

“Regardless, I'm not sure that I can trust that. What can you possibly say to make me believe that you mean no harm to my family?”

Buffy stopped whatever inflammatory response Spike was about to give with a gentle hand on his arm. 

“About that. There is something, but it needs a bit of explaining. You probably want to be sitting down for this.”

Joyce blanched. She really didn't like the sound of that. 

“Mom, you remember the last night, when I suddenly went from crazy pacing to running out the house? It turns out someone – probably Willow trying to be helpful – put a spell on me. 

“I don't know what it was supposed to do, but what it actually did was remove all my preconceptions about vampires being unable to love and allowed me to see Spike for who he really is, not the monster I let myself believe he is.”

Joyce looked uncomfortably between the Slayer and vampire. She was pretty sure she knew where this was going now, and she didn't like it very much.

“So, Spike and I were … intimate -” Buffy cringed over the word, “and something happened that I didn't know was even a thing and we can't change or take it back and I wouldn't want to anyway, but it meant that when the spell ended a couple of hours ago and all those thoughts came back I didn't believe them any more.”

Even Spike, who understood exactly what his Slayer was talking about, had trouble following that convoluted train of thought.

Joyce looked completely lost.

“What she means, Joyce, is that she asked me to do something she didn't understand meant anything other than a symbolic gesture, which has slightly more permanent consequences. Something she wouldn't have considered if Red hadn't gone all manipulative with the mojo.”

The fierce glare levelled at him was pure Slayer, even though there wasn't a supernatural bone in Joyce's body.

“And what, exactly, is it that my daughter asked you to do?”

Buffy just gathered her hair over her right shoulder, leaving the shiny new scar on the left side of her neck clearly visible.

“It's called a Claim. I asked him to make me his and he did. It's sort of like a vampire marriage.”

Joyce looked a little green at the idea.

“Marriage?” She asked faintly, before gathering herself and continuing with the cold tone of fury that was obviously a Summers trait. “Willow did this to you? Is there no way to undo it?”

“No, Mom. Willow didn't make the Claim happen. She just... took away my inhibitions or something. Don't get me wrong, I'm crazy mad with her for messing with my mind. I'm just relieved that for once her magical mishaps had a happy result.”

Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike, revelling in the calming security of his presence, and pleaded with her mother for understanding.

“I don't know if it is possible to break the Claim, but I know that I would never want to find out. I finally have someone who loves me, who is my equal in every way and can accept me as both girl and Slayer. 

“The connection we have, it's more than just physical. Our emotions are linked. I can _feel_ how much he loves me, and he can feel it from me. I've found someone who has my back, in every way, and will never leave me. Can you please be happy for that? 

“I know it's a lot to ask, a lot to process, that you'll need some time. But can you at least not be mad at me?”

Joyce stood and took a couple of steps towards the couple.

“Oh honey, I'm not mad at you.” She turned to look at Spike. “You're still not off the hook, though young man. That is _not_ the proper way to treat a lady!”

Spike bowed his head in shame. 

“Know that, Joyce,” he murmured.

She continued as if she hadn't even noticed his interruption.

“I expect better from members of this family. I won't have you setting a bad example for Dawn.”

The moment the words filtered into Buffy's understanding a massive, genuine grin split her face. She could barely focus on the rest of her mother's speech.

“You are going to have to move out of that crypt – that is not the sort of environment I want either of my daughters spending time socially. Short term, I guess that means moving in here. It won't hurt to have a second superbeing around to keep Dawn safe. Though I expect you both to be looking for your own place once the danger has passed.”

Spike's jaw was dropping lower with every word out of Joyce's mouth. Somehow, she had gone from saying he wasn't welcome around her daughters to moving him in. He was tempted to pinch himself and check he hadn't fallen asleep somewhere along the line.

“You _will_ be making an honest woman out of her, too. A scar on her neck is not a socially acceptable sign of commitment. My baby is going to have a proper wedding!”


	7. Traumatising Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated mango, apple, pomegranate, passion fruit.

It was a rather bemused Spike and Buffy that made their way upstairs. Neither of them could quite understand the sudden shift in Joyce's attitude but equally they weren't going to complain.

Or rather, Buffy wouldn't complain about anything other than the fact her mother was determined to make her die of embarrassment. When the older woman had sent them up to bed (together!) she had made sure to remind them that the walls were not soundproof and asked that they please not do anything that might traumatise Dawn.

Spike had simply smirked at Joyce and promised that they would be quiet as church mice, which only served to increase the Slayer's level of mortification.

Buffy felt weird. Sure Riley had stayed over a few times, but it had usually been after a late night of slaying or watching movies and her mom hadn't been awake when they finally crept up to bed. Even though he had been there in the morning, it had still felt a little like she was sneaking behind her mother's back. She had never asked her _permission_ for a boyfriend to stay over before.

This time, her mom had been the one to insist that Spike stay and had loudly scoffed when the vampire politely offered to take the sofa. None of them had really believed he would stay there all night and Joyce had pointed out that since they were already demonically married it would be silly of her to try and force them to sleep separately anyway.

So now Buffy was preparing to go to bed with Spike, who was there with her mom's blessing, and for some ridiculous reason she was standing just a step into her bedroom and almost shaking with nerves.

Spike walked back over from where he had been securing the curtains and wrapped his arms around her in a tight, but not crushing, embrace.

“What's going on in that head of yours, pet?”

His voice was a low rumble against her ear and she relished in the way it soothed away her inexplicable case of jitteriness.

“No idea. Just overwhelmed, I guess.”

He squeezed her a little tighter and placed a kiss on her forehead. Then, in typical Spike fashion, spoiled the tender moment with an innuendo and a leer.

“Can think of a couple of ways to help you relax, luv.”

Buffy might have rebuffed his advances had she not felt the genuine concern for her flowing through their claim bond. Knowing that despite the piggish attitude he wasn't just trying to get into her pants, she allowed herself to accept his words for the distraction technique they were and relax further into his embrace.

“It feels weird, with Mom knowing what we're doing in here.”

Spike chuckled.

“Pretty sure Mum is tryin' to convince herself we're in 'ere discussin' knittin' patterns or some such.”

Buffy gave him an incredulous look before conceding that he was probably right. Joyce was rather talented in the art of self-denial.

The stress of the day fell heavily back on to her shoulders at that thought. She suddenly felt very tired.

“Can we just go to sleep?” she asked, her voice tentative as she realised that she had no idea what he expected of her now.

She barely got the words out before a massive yawn overtook her mouth.

“'course, luv, whatever you want.”

Buffy made no move to get ready for bed, instead snuggling closer into his chest and closing her eyes. She didn't know why she was so surprised that he wouldn't ask anything of her, but couldn't help melting into him with relief at his words.

Overwhelmed with tenderness for the girl, Spike swept her up in his arms and laid her gently on the bed.

She watched lazily as he began to methodically remove her clothing. There was nothing sexual in the way his hands were moving over her body, but somehow it was one of the most intimate things Buffy had ever experienced.

Spike undressed her with practiced movements, gentle but efficient. She luxuriated in the feeling of being taken care of. It was one she had felt far too little of since she became the Slayer.

All too soon, he was tucking the comforter around her naked body and stripping out of his own clothes. He completely ignored the raging erection that sprang free when he stepped out of his jeans, just quietly slipped under the covers to hold her close.

The fact that Spike could focus so entirely on her needs that he would pass up the opportunity to make her blush filled Buffy with such warmth that she would have fallen in love with him for that moment alone.

Suddenly, she wasn't so tired anymore.

She wriggled around until they were lying face to face and took a moment to appreciate the hard lines of his cheekbones. They seemed to draw her attention down to his soft, pouty lips and Buffy didn't hesitate to move in and kiss them. Before she could deepen the kiss, he pulled away.

“Thought you were tired, love.”

He spoke with such tenderness that it brought a tear to her eye.

“I was. Now, not so much.”

A cheeky grin flashed across her mouth and then she was kissing him again and this time he didn't resist. For long moments they were lost in each other, neither moving to do anything other than kiss.

Eventually Buffy pulled away, gasping for air. When she regained control of her lungs she placed an affectionate peck on his lips before drawing back to look in his eyes.

“I love you,” she whispered reverently.

The smile lit up his face. That was the first time she had explicitly said those words to him. Before he could reply in kind, she spoke again.

“Make me yours, Spike.”

He knew it was symbolic, her asking like that. They were already claimed. But the fact that she would ask him again, even as a gesture, warmed his heart so much he thought it might start beating again.

His Slayer _wanted_ their claim. Now. In full knowledge of what it meant. There was no way he wasn't taking her up on that offer.

With no compulsion to complete the ritual, he took his time. Moving in first for a few lazy kisses while his hand ghosted up and down the side of her body leaving shivers and goosebumps in its wake.

Buffy moaned quietly and rolled onto her back, giving him better access to her aching breasts. He broke their kiss to nip and lick his way down to her chest.

She lost herself in sensation as he worshipped her body. It might have been minutes or hours later that she finally felt his tongue where she needed it, a cool firm flick against her clitoris.

He drew out her orgasm so slowly she was almost brought to tears by the need for release. The cheeky bastard had then taken a moment to remind her of their promise to be quiet before finally tipping her over the peak while she bit her tongue to hold in a scream.

She would have slapped the smug grin off his face if she had the energy to move.

Instead she accepted his kiss, returning it with a languid passion. She was barely aware of him moving above her until he slid inside with a slow thrust.

It was so different to the frenzied passion of their first coupling, the fast needy desperation of completing the claim, or the playful quickie before he left the previous morning.

This was gentleness and love and comfort and togetherness. It was perfect.

Buffy was barely aware of the building tension before she came again. The sensation was intensified by the sharp slide of Spike's fangs into the mark on her neck and the pulsing of his cock inside her as he climaxed. She was still shuddering in release when he drew back from her throat with a growled “Mine!”

She pulled his lips to hers in a quick kiss.

“Yours. Always yours. I love you.”

Her eyes were drooping heavily as he kissed her again. He rolled them so that he was on his back and draped with a Buffy-blanket. There was a joint sigh of loss as he slipped from her warmth.

Spike was sure that the Slayer was unaware of her lips on his claim mark as she drifted off to sleep. It filled him with a sensation of such pure completeness that he would have felt compelled to put it into bad verse had he not been so very tired.

Instead he pulled the covers up to tuck under her chin, closed his eyes and joined his mate in sweet dreams.

***

There was a quick knock on her bedroom door and then she heard the handle turn. _Shit_ – had she remembered to lock it last night? Before Buffy's had the chance to go from panicked thoughts to actually doing something about a potentially unlocked door, her fears were proved to be very much founded. There was barely a second for her to ensure that everything important was covered before the door swung open and her sister appeared.

“Hey, Buffy, can I – Oh My God! You and _SPIKE!_ Does Mom know? When did -”

Each word out of Dawn's mouth increased in both volume and pitch. Buffy winced but before she could think what to say, the vampire in the bed with her cut off what promised to be an epic (and painful) rant.

“Cut it out, Bit. Some of us are tryin' to sleep here! All that squealin's makin' my ears hurt.”

Spike had lifted his head just enough to glare over her shoulder and Buffy was relieved that her being sprawled over him didn't allow the vampire to sit up. Her sister would never leave them alone if she caught sight of that chest.

“Go away Dawn.”

In the fearless way of all teenagers (and especially those who live with the Slayer and call a master vampire friend) Dawn stood her ground.

“But Buffy, I need to know...”

The Slayer sister cut her off again.

“If you leave now, I will tell you everything after school.”

Dawn pouted, and was about to say something more when Buffy heard her mother's voice clearly from the bottom of the stairs.

“Dawn! What are you doing? Leave your sister alone and come down and eat your breakfast. Now!”

Not one to let anyone else have the last word, she stuck her tongue out at Buffy before leaving the room and not-quite-closing the door. The Slayer could hear her on the stairs, loudly asking their mother if she knew about the vampire in her sister's bed.

With a groan, Buffy slipped out of bed to shut the door properly and this time made certain to slip the lock closed before heading back to snuggle some more with her vamp.

Spike was watching her, head propped up on one fist, in open admiration as she moved naked across the room.

Buffy climbed back under the covers and cuddled up against him.

“I can't believe I forgot to lock the door last night,” she grumbled.

Spike chuckled. He was so happy that Buffy hadn't made any attempt to deny their relationship that he could care less about being woken so early. He wrapped his arm around her back and drew her closer.

He lifted the hand that wasn't currently pinning the Slayer to his side and started carding his fingers through her golden hair. He was so warm; the blood he had taken from her last night combined with the heat that had seeped from her body into his as they slept had given his undead body a heat that he hadn't experienced in over twelve decades.

Spike was basking. Not only was his physical temperature higher than it had been since he was human, but a different kind of warmth was radiating through his chest. Love, peace, contentment, belonging, _home_ – all feelings that filled him, heated his blood in a way that he hadn't known was even possible.

He lost himself in the sensation, not sure whose emotions he was chasing and pretty sure that they didn't belong to either of them individually.

Buffy smiled as a rumbling sound that was unmistakably a purr vibrated through the chest beneath her head as her eyes once more drifted shut in peaceful slumber. 


	8. Fixing Willow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After far too long I am back with a pile of spare chapters and the promise of weekly updates.

After a lazy morning in bed, Buffy was shocked awake by the shrill ring of the telephone. It was Giles, and he wanted to see her as soon as possible to discuss the 'events of the past couple of days'.

The Slayer had rolled her eyes at that. Giles was obviously still attempting some level of denial when it came to the new role Spike held in her life.

Spike had, of course, insisted on accompanying her to the Watcher's flat. That wasn't a surprise – he was probably the least sun-shy vampire that had ever lived. It still didn't convince her to walk with him through the sewers, though. If he wasn't going to sleep the day away like a normal vamp, then at the very least he could meet her there. There was no way she was risking her new stylish-but-affordable boots getting covered in sewer slime.

Giles had given a defeatist sigh when the door opened and Buffy stood to the side while Spike hurried in out of the sunshine. He had hoped to avoid the irritating vampire, given the meeting was in daylight hours, but he should have known better.

The couple made themselves comfortable on his sofa, this time making no attempt to keep any distance between their bodies. Giles did not appreciate the casual physicality and was once more incredibly thankful that he had been unable to see the display the pair had put on when under the Will be Done spell last year. At least this time Willow's spell had left them able to refrain from disgustingly graphic public displays of affection.

Buffy smiled at him and leaned forwards slightly

“So, what's the what Giles?”

The Watcher just barely refrained from rolling his eyes at the linguistic capabilities of his Slayer and instead focused on the pile of notes that he had picked up from the coffee table.

“I spent the night researching various options for how we can deal with Willow. Your idea of binding her powers is not going to work, I'm afraid. That is not to say that we can't stop her out of control magic use. After consulting with a coven of powerful witches that often assist the Council I have managed to put together something of a plan.”

Buffy interrupted his planned speech with a panicked “The Council? You told the Council about this?!”

Giles huffed and turned a stern glare on his Slayer.

“Really, Buffy, do you take me for a complete imbecile? I haven't said a single word to the Council and I don't intend to. They would likely send the wet-works team after you both!”

He shook his head and continued, “No, I said that the coven often assisted the Council with the implication that they are therefore in a position to understand the situation we have here. I contacted them directly and only told them that we have a very powerful witch whose spells often go awry.”

The panicked tension melted out of Buffy's body as he spoke and she allowed herself to settle back against Spike's side. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a supportive squeeze while nuzzling her hair. She was safe.

Spike lifted his head and broke the slightly awkward silence.

“What's the plan then, Watcher?”

He shuffled the papers again and removed his glasses, polishing as he spoke.

“This is not something we can do without help. We cannot simply bind the power within Willow because she would resist it – even if only at a subconscious level – and the results of it breaking free would be disastrous. We need to contain that power safely, within another witch. The coven is sending over a teacher who could in theory do that for us, but it will work best if there is a level of trust between Willow and the vessel.”

Spike nodded thoughtfully. “You thinkin' Glinda?”

Giles hummed in agreement.

“That does seem the most appropriate solution. I doubt that there is anyone whom Willow trusts more, and the girl is a powerful witch even if she lacks the brute strength in her magic that is Willow's speciality. More importantly, she has the control over herself and her spells that young Miss Rosenberg sorely lacks.”

Buffy was following the conversation carefully and thought she understood what the plan was. Magic and research were not very Buffy-mixy things, but it seemed simple enough in theory.

With her brow crinkled in concentration, she voiced what she thought Giles had been saying. “So we squeeze out Willow's magic juice and feed it to Tara?”

Spike chuckled at the unfortunate turn of phrase while Giles looked skyward, praying for the strength to deal with the girl's incessant need to butcher her native tongue.

“Yes, Buffy,” he ground out with the patience only years of practice and a specific fondness could give him, “in essence, that is the plan. Though there will be no squeezing of Willow and the power will be transferred magically, not as food.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. Of course she didn't mean it literally! Her Watcher never appreciated the creative use of metaphor. The chuckling vampire got an elbow in the ribs for his cheek.

“Oi! Wot you do that for, Slayer?”

She raised her eyebrows and gave him a look that said he knew exactly what she meant.

With an unrepentant snigger, the vampire dug himself deeper. “You imaginin' her as a carrot or an orange, luv, or was that dirty little mind of yours thinkin' of another kind of juice?”

Suddenly realising exactly what Spike was thinking of, she blushed bright red and punched him hard in the shoulder.

“You're a pig, Spike.”

Giles interrupted before the couple could fully engage in an argument (or worse, considering the sudden escalation of sexual tension).

“Yes, well, unfortunate metaphors aside, it would probably be a good idea to speak to Tara as soon as possible to determine whether she would be willing to take part in this spell.”

“Agreed,” said Buffy, quickly grasping at the change of topic. “I should head over to campus and see if I can't catch her on her own.”

She stood and made her way over to the door, before turning and pointing an accusing finger at her vampire.

“You should go back to your crypt and start packing.”

Spike looked momentarily hurt before he realised that the stern tone of voice was not accompanied by any bitter feelings and remembered Joyce's decree from the night before.

He also got to his feet and realised that Buffy was waiting to hold the door for him. Thanking the Powers that his teasing hadn't really upset her, he nodded farewell to the Watcher and walked over to his mate.

The look in her eye told him that he wasn't completely forgiven but he had a feeling that he would enjoy working his way back into her good books.

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before lifting his duster over his head and darting out into the sunlight with a quiet “see you tonight, luv.”

Buffy watched him disappear around the corner before turning back to her Watcher.

“I'll bring Tara straight over if I find her, ok? I think it would be better if you explained everything.”

Giles smiled softly at the Slayer. “Yes, I expect it would. I will see you soon then, I hope.”

Buffy gave a little wave and disappeared out the door almost as quickly as her vampire lover.

***

Buffy actually found both Tara and Anya walking together as she approached the UC Sunnydale campus. They were having a friendly discussion about website design and both seemed surprised but happy to see Buffy jogging up to them.

“Hey guys, I'm glad I found you.”

The other girls both looked a little confused, as neither considered themselves close friends of the Slayer.

“You were looking for us?” asked Anya with a blunt tone of disbelief.

Buffy nodded. “Yes, well actually I was just looking for Tara but I'm sure having two magically-knowledgeable peoples is an extra bonus.”

Tara looked concerned. “Has something happened? Do you need me to call Willow?”

Buffy's very quick, very defensive shout of “No!” made the shy girl shrink back but Anya seemed to pick up on the subtext with no difficulty.

“What has she done now?”

Buffy winced. “Probably best not to discuss it here. Giles is expecting us at his. I'll explain the details when we get there.”

Anya shrugged and looked like she was about to make her excuses when she suddenly caught sight of the bite mark on Buffy's neck. Her eyes widened and she grabbed Tara by the elbow, half dragging the nervous witch forward in her attempt to hurry her along.

“Oh yes, I can't wait to see how that happened!”

***

They were barely through the door to Giles' apartment before Anya pounced.

“Did Willow spell you in love with Spike again? Is that why you let him Claim you?”

Buffy flushed under the intense interrogation of the ex-demon.

“There was a spell,” the Slayer started. “I don't know what she meant to do, but somehow she removed my preconceptions of Spike and made me forget that you can't love without a soul -”

Anya cut her off with a loud scoff. “Wherever did you pick up such a ridiculous notion! You don't need a soul to love, just like you don't need to lose it to do evil.”

Buffy huffed. “I know that now. But after he got his soul back, Angel convinced me that the only reason Angelus couldn't love me was because he didn't have a soul and I believed him because it was Angel.”

Anya didn't look impressed with that explanation. “You're an idiot.”

Buffy sighed but conceded the point. “17-year-old me was definitely that . And I am very cross with Angel and his lying face. But that isn't important right now.”

Giles took the slight pause in their bickering as an opportunity to greet his guests. “Hello Tara, Anya.”

Tara stuttered a nervous “h-hello, Mr. Giles.”

Anya gave a slight nod of acknowledgement but otherwise her focus remained on the Slayer. “So what did Willow's spell do?”

Buffy shrugged. “I already told you. It changed the way I think about souls and allowed me to see the real Spike.”

The ex-demon furrowed her brow. “So the Claim wasn't forced?”

“It wouldn't have happened without the spell,” Buffy emphasised, “but the spell wasn't what made it happen, no.”

Anya grinned. “That is a relief. I would not want to be around here if you and Spike were forced into a Claim! That never ends well for anybody.”

She gave a theatrical shudder.

Tara was watching, nervous and very confused. From what she understood of the conversation, Willow had cast a spell on Buffy and something scary had happened between the Slayer and Spike.

Now that Anya's curiosity had been sated enough to allow others to participate in the conversation, Giles guided the three girls to sit on the couch.

“We haven't spoken to Willow yet, so we don't know what she actually intended the spell to do,” he said. “However, we are certain that it wasn't to promote a permanent bond between Buffy and Spike.”

Tara looked up from her lap in surprise. “Is that what happened?”

She turned to face Buffy. “You are permanently bonded with Spike? Is that what Anya was asking about?”

The Slayer nodded and pulled her hair back to expose the new bite marks on the left of her throat.

“I didn't mean for it to happen. We kind of got caught up in the moment.”

Anya sniggered. “I can imagine that Spike is very easy to get caught up on.”

At the confused look on the witch's face, Anya put her hand to her mouth and stage-whispered “a Claim is completed during sex.”

Tara joined Buffy in blushing. The Slayer's features had turned a glowing shade of crimson.

“Be that as it may,” Giles once more tried to regain control of the conversation. “The situation is such that we are afraid that when Willow finds out what has happened, she will attempt to use magic to 'fix' it.”

Anya looked suitably horrified. “You just don't meddle with ancient magics like that! The consequences of trying to break a Claim...”

She trailed off, her lack of words more eloquently expressing the horror she imagined than any attempt to actually describe it.

“Indeed,” he nodded. “Yet Willow would probably try. That is why we have asked you here, Tara.”

The witch focused her attention completely on Giles as he spoke to her.

“I have made arrangements for a teacher to be sent over from a coven in England to teach Willow how to properly wield her magic. You are not obliged to join these lessons, though you would be most welcome to.”

He removed his glasses and started cleaning them on a handkerchief as he continued to speak.

“It has been decided that Willow is too blasé with her spellcasting and cannot be trusted right now. Her magic must be restricted until she is able to use it responsibly. I will not have her casting spells on my Slayer willy-nilly.”

Anya interrupted with a sarcastic aside. “Technically, she is Spike's slayer.”

Giles pointedly ignored the ex-demon and continued his long-winded request.

“There is a spell that I hope you can help us with. It transfers the powers of one witch to another, temporarily. The witch from the coven would happily take part but it is a much less uncomfortable experience if there is trust between the two witches. We believe that you would be the best choice for this, Tara.”

The witch looked from the Watcher to the Slayer with bug eyes. They would trust her with such power?

“I-I don't know what to say? I don't know if I would be safe with that much power. It is a lot of responsibility.”

Giles smiled. “And that is exactly why we chose you. Willow trusts you implicitly and you are aware of your own limitations. Your teacher will be on hand to help you, if you should need it.”

Tara ducked her head and focused on her fingers as they twined together in her lap. For long moments she said nothing, thinking through her options.

Eventually she raised her head to the Watcher. “I'll do it. But only if Willow agrees.”


	9. Dawnquisition

Buffy hadn't stayed long at Giles' once she had caught the witch and ex-demon up with the details that they knew about Willow's spell. She left the two girls and Giles deep in discussion about the origins of magic and what the effects of the spell they planned to cast tomorrow were. Honestly she had tuned out once it started getting too detailed and magic knowledgey for her and took that as her sign to leave.

She was all too aware of the Dawnquisition that awaited her once she got home. As much as Buffy would have preferred to avoid her sister for the foreseeable, she was well aware that showing up late would only invoke the teen's volatile temper and make the talk ten times more painful for her.

She wished that Spike was with her, though. Suddenly sending him off to his crypt for the day didn't seem like the brightest idea. He was maybe the only person other than Mom that her hormone bomb of a sister would listen to.

It was with an overwhelming sense of relief that her vampire tinglies went off as soon as she entered the house. Not that that would usually be a good thing, but these tinglies screamed 'Spike is near' and Spike was what she needed right now.

Buffy made her way upstairs and stopped in the doorway to her room. Leaning against the frame, she watched with undisguised admiration as Spike re-arranged her closet to accommodate his meagre wardrobe alongside her own. Her clothes were probably the neatest they had been since her mother stopped putting them away for her.

This hidden, domestic side of her vampire mate sent a sudden rush of heat between her thighs. The sudden naughty image of Spike in a French Maid apron and nothing else made her squirm in desire. Unfortunately her sister would be home any minute and she would have to put on hold any ideas of shoving her lover up against the back of the closet and...

The cocky bastard chose that moment to turn around and give her a knowing leer. He curled his tongue behind his teeth in the way that he knew made her knees weak and Buffy no longer cared that they were expecting Dawn. She moved into the room with every intention of jumping the smug vamp and showing him who was boss, when the front door slammed and Dawn's demanding screech barrelled up the stairs.

“You'd better be up there Buffy! You promised to tell me everything!”

With a glare that promised later punishment for starting something that he couldn't finish, Buffy manhandled her vampire out the bedroom door and pushed him to descend the stairs in front of her. A shield behind which she could hide from her sister's wrath.

Spike reached the ground floor and gave Dawn a stern look.

“Alright, Bit. We're here and we'll tell you what you want to know, but we won't be saying anything if you can't keep civil.”

Dawn crossed her arms over her chest and pouted, but nodded reluctantly.

She received an indulgent smile from the vampire. He continued talking to her in a firm-but-kind tone.

“Now if we're gonna be all civilised-like, we best sort out some refreshments and then sit down properly.”

Dawn quickly declared that the only refreshment for serious conversations was hot chocolate and quickly darted into the kitchen to prepare it. Buffy watched her compliance with outright disbelief.

She wrapped her arms around Spike's waist and cuddled into his back. How had she never noticed how kind and patient he was with Dawn before? The way he handled her sister with gentle firmness simultaneously made the Slayer hot and engulfed with the most intense feelings of love for him.

There was so much of Spike that she had refused to see because it conflicted with her stubborn world view. Even after their magical engagement she had put his every gentle word and action down to a side-effect of the spell. Now she could see that he had simply let go of the big bad persona that he hid his vulnerable side behind.

How much would she have lost if not for Willow's latest witchy disaster?

She didn't have much time to worry about that thought. Dawn came back through with a tray holding three mugs of hot chocolate and a bowl full of marshmallows, which Spike was quick to rescue from her dangerously clumsy grasp.

He put the tray down on the coffee table and piled a large handful of the miniature treats into one of the drinks before settling back on the sofa. Buffy added a much more reasonable number to her own mug and then sat next to her vampire. Dawn put her handful of sweets directly into her mouth and plonked herself down on the armchair opposite the couple.

Finally, the teenager broke the silence with a surprisingly restrained question.

“So, Buffy, what happened to Spike being evil?”

The vampire in question puffed up his chest and gave a defensive “Oi! I am evil!” to which the two Summers girls shared a simultaneous indulgent eye-roll.

Buffy took a fortifying breath and began.

“It seems like Willow has cast another spell on Spike and I...”

It didn't take long to go over the few facts that the couple knew about the spell. Explaining the Claim was a little more awkward, since Buffy had never wanted to discuss her sex life with her sister ever, but she pushed through it with minimal blushes and absolutely no help from the vampire sitting next to her.

He was far too busy trying to pretend that he wasn't laughing at her.

By the time Joyce returned from the gallery, Dawn was caught up and Buffy happily sent her off into the kitchen to discuss wedding plans with their mother over dinner prep. When asked whether she wanted to join them she declined, saying that wedding planning wasn't really her forte.

At that, Spike lost it and she was forced to drag the cackling vampire upstairs before he managed to spill any of the mortifying details from their bespelled engagement.

Unfortunately, once she had him in the relative privacy of her bedroom she finally clocked on to her mother's evil plan. There was no way that she could have the 'discussion' with him that she wanted to have while her mom and sister were downstairs cooking dinner.

Restraining herself to a frustrated (and very much pulled) punch on the shoulder she turned her attention to getting ready for an early patrol. It was pretty much a 'two birds, one stone' solution – she would work out some of her anger on whichever demons were stupid enough to cross her path and at some point they would inevitably end up in Restfield where Spike had a conveniently private crypt that she could use to work out the rest of her issues.

There was no argument from the vampire as she loaded up on stakes, handed him a couple and slipped a knife into her boot. The couple made their way out of the house with a quick farewell to the two chefs and a promise not to be back too late.

Patrol was going well – if mind-numbingly boring counted as well. For whatever reason they had found only three fledges and some sort of short, horned demon that had run away at first glimpse of the Slayer. She hated when the Hellmouth was this quiet. It always felt like the calm before the apocalypse.

The lack of action only served to allow her frustration to build. By the time the couple made their way into Restfield, she was on the verge of losing control of herself completely. Her earlier annoyance at her smug mate's teasing and generally cocky attitude had been simmering for hours and was now reaching a rolling boil.

Buffy was so distracted that she didn't register for a moment what was happening when Spike pulled her quickly around a corner. The sudden darkness that followed the thud of the closing door led to a split second of panic before she realised that they were, of course, in Spike's crypt.

The vampire in question was no longer at her side, but before she could get more than mildly irritated at her abandonment the flash of flame from his zippo flickered into being a few feet away. Soon a veritable smorgasbord of candles was bathing the room in their warm glow.

Now that she could see where she was going the Slayer stormed across the crypt until she was standing in front of her vampire, white-knuckled fists clenched at her sides.

“You jerk!”

Spike raised his eyebrows at the insult. He was pretty sure that the lack of action while patrolling was about to come back and haunt him.

“What's got you so mad, love?”

Possibly not the best thing to say to an enraged Slayer. Even (or maybe especially) one with whom he was bonded for life.

“What do you mean, you stupid jerkfaced jerk? You know what you've done!”

Spike had a pretty good idea what she was talking about – innuendoes in front of Giles and leaving her to talk to Dawn because he was too busy trying not to laugh – but this level of anger seemed excessive and he was starting to worry whether he had done something that actually upset her.

He reached out and put his hands on her biceps. The muscles under his palms were trembling as she obviously resisted the urge to lash out at him. He began to trace soothing fingers up and down her arm.

“Look, love, I'm sorry for being a git. I wasn't trying to upset you.”

Tears glistened in her eyes. He was just building up to a proper panic when she unclenched her fists with obvious effort and lifted her hands to hold his face.

“I'm sorry,” she began. “It's stupid. I was annoyed earlier but nothing a good fight wouldn't fix. Except there wasn't anyone to fight which just made me angrier.”

The relief he felt at realising that he hadn't done anything to truly piss her off was quickly dowsed by the frustration that had consumed him for over a year. He really missed fighting with his Slayer.

Then he realised that he didn't have to. So what if they had to avoid the actual brawling part. They could still dance.

He smiled and gave her the simple solution. “Spar with me.”

Buffy gave him a look that she usually reserved for the especially stupid comments that Xander would sometimes make.

“What are you talking about, doofus? You can't hit me, ergo no sparring.”

Now that the idea was in his head, he wasn't going to back down. His eyes lit up with excitement.

“Sure we can.” He insisted, defiantly. “I can still throw a punch if I'm not trying to hurt you and you can make sure that I don't end up with a headache.”

She looked like she was thinking up a good excuse no to agree. Before the cogs could finish turning, he leaned in to press a kiss on her forehead before stepping back and aiming a slow punch at her cheek.

Of course instincts took over and she was blocking him before she fully realised that she had lost the argument. The second she did, Buffy growled and lunged. She aimed her trademark love-jab to his nose, but he was already moving away from her and her fist slipped past his ear.

Her scowl morphed quickly into a smile as the adrenaline of the fight hit her system. Spike was already grinning like a loon.

“That all you got, Slayer?”

He smirked and curled his tongue behind his teeth in a way that sent shivers of desire down her spine. Fighting Spike had always made her hot, but this time she wasn't going to try and deny it. She couldn't believe how free that made her feel.

“Not on your life, buster. Your ass deserves a whooping.”

Spike leered, adjusting the bulge in his jeans.

“Can't wait, luv.”

They battled back and forth across the room, trading quips as often as punches, and Buffy couldn't understand why they had never tried this before. It was exhilarating, even without the satisfying smack of flesh on flesh, and a much better workout than Giles or Xander could ever hope to provide.

His strong fingers closed around her foot as he caught the roundhouse aimed at his left ear. He took the opportunity to trail his other hand up the inside of her thigh and she squirmed for a second before freeing herself and flipping backwards over the stone sarcophagus.

“You rotten cheater!”

Spike smirked. “All's fair in love and war, luv.”

His unrepentant attitude made her all the more determined to catch him and give him the punishment he had spent the day earning for himself. She threw herself back into battle, a flurry of kicks and jabs that the cocky vamp somehow managed to dance around.

His words from that night at the Bronze echoed through her mind. You think we're dancing? That's all we've ever done.

The thought of what she had said to him then was distraction enough that she never noticed his fist flying towards her shoulder. She was shaken out of her memories as it made contact with a dull thud and she winced back with an automatically shouted “ow!”

Spike stood inches away, frozen, staring at his fist.

“I hit you.”

She scowled, moving her hand up to rub out the pain.

“Yes, dumbass. You got me. Are we playing state the obvious ?”

Spike shook his head, still staring dumbly at his fist. He spoke in a terrified, awed whisper.

“I hit you and the chip didn't fire.”

The playful smile that had just formed on her lips fell away as icy dread washed down her spine.

“Do you think it stopped working?” she asked in a small, scared voice. Then another shock hit her as she realised something. “You bit me!”

Spike had realised that himself at the time, but had put the lack of blinding pain down to the fact she was enjoying herself and had asked for the bite. Now he wasn't so sure. When was the last time he had tried to hurt a human? Was the chip still working? Did it even matter?

He knew that there was a simple choice if the chip wasn't working – supplement his diet of pigs blood with the occasional sip of Slayer; or go back to being the Big Bad, drinking fresh blood from the tap, and lose Buffy forever.

It wasn't even up for debate.

“Look, sweetheart,” he began, “I don't know what happened. I thought that the chip didn't fire when I bit you because all I wanted was to give you pleasure. Now, I don't know if that's true or if the chip just doesn't work any more.”

He looked at her with pleading eyes, tears glistening but stubbornly held back. “I don't know if it is the chip or our Claim that means I can hit you now. Honestly, I don't care. Nothing is going to change. Even without the chip I love you too much to hurt you by hurting anyone else.”

Buffy was shaking. She knew the truth of his words, could feel his sincerity in both his voice and through their bond. But she was terrified nonetheless. If the chip had failed there was no way that Giles or Xander would ever even try to trust Spike's promise. They would insist that she dust him.

She really didn't want to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder for threats from the men she considered family.

“I know.” She managed to choke out. “I trust you.”

She couldn't speak any more. She knew that he could feel her fear but the words stuck in her throat. Giving up, she grabbed hold of him, showing with her actions that it wasn't him that was making her scared. He wrapped his arms tightly around her in relief.

They stood for a long while in the middle of his crypt, bathed in the glow of a hundred candles, clinging together as their tears fell unheeded. 


	10. The Truth is Subjective

It was a pale-faced Buffy and Spike that made their way back to the Summers house. Dawn was, thankfully, nowhere to be seen when the couple slipped in through the back door. Joyce took one look at them and set the dish she had been scrubbing down in the sink.

“What happened?”

Buffy looked at her with a little girl lost expression. “I don't know, Mom,” she whispered.

Worried, but realising that it was probably not a life-or-death situation, Joyce dried her hands and wrapped her eldest daughter in a tight hug. She looked to the vampire for an explanation.

“Not sure, Mum. We were sparring and one of my hits got through, but the chip didn't fire. We don't know if that's because of the Claim or if the chip isn't working right.”

Now she understood the worry on their faces. The chip had been the only thing keeping the Spike from being dusted. Buffy might have changed her mind, but the rest of the gang were not going to be so trusting of an unleashed vampire.

“Hit me.”

The dual looks of flabbergasted disgust almost made her smile. 

She tried again, this time explaining her reasoning. 

“You need to know if the chip works. For that, you have to test it on a human. So, hit me.”

From her tone, Buffy knew this wasn't an argument that they had any hope of winning. She exchanged a look with Spike and he reluctantly agreed that this was probably the safest way to test it.

With a bashful shrug, Spike spoke. 

“Don't need to hurt you to set off the chip, Mum. Just need to do this.”

As he finished speaking, he vamped out and lunged for his friend. Joyce jumped back with a scream at almost the exact second that Spike yelled and let himself fall to the floor, clutching his head, laughing painfully and cursing the damned chip.

That made things simpler. The problem wasn't the chip. Something was different with Buffy.

***

Dawn was in her room. Not asleep, as her sister had assumed, but chronicling the latest twists of the Slayer's life story in her diary. She couldn't believe what had happened and despite being very cross with Willow for putting a spell on her sister for no real reason that Dawn could see, the teenager was also incredibly thankful that it managed to get Buffy to drop her stupid prejudices.

It was such a relief that the one person (other than her mom) who saw Dawn as something more than an annoyance or some mystical  thing to be protected was finally being accepted as a person. Hopefully that meant she would be able to hang out with him more often – that is if she could get him away from her sister.

That  was something that Dawn wasn't so sure she liked. Yes, great, Buffy accepts Spike is a person with feelings and wants him around, but she wasn't sure that her bitch of a sister deserved the devotion of a guy like Spike. 

Plus, the fact he was now her demon brother-in-law meant that Dawn's crush on the  ohsogorgeous vampire had to be killed dead. Something that she was pretty reluctant to do. But she couldn't bring herself to think romantic thoughts about the guy her sister was sharing a bed with. It was just too uncomfortable.

She was lying across her bed, sucking her pen and trying to put these thoughts into words when a blood-curdling scream echoed up the stairs.  Mom!

Her pen and diary dropped to the floor as she sprinted out of her room and down to her mother. 

“Mom? Are you ok?” She shouted as she pelted down the stairs.

She skidded to a stop in the kitchen doorway, confused by the scene. Her mom was leaning against the counter with a hand on her heart but not a hair out of place and looking perfectly healthy. Spike was on the floor with a hand on his head, laughing. Buffy stood between them, looking from one to the other as if she wasn't quite sure what to do.

“Er... what happened? Why did Mom scream?” Dawn asked, because she really didn't want to acknowledge the obvious explanation.

Buffy spluttered. “Well, you see... we were checking something.”

Dawn crossed her arms under her breasts and gave her sister a  look . Did the monks siphon off her brains when they made Dawn or was Buffy always this stupid?

“What were you checking that made Mom scream and set Spike's... you were testing the chip, weren't you? It didn't work on you and you needed to test it.”

Buffy's eyebrows hit her hairline in surprise as her sister correctly put together the scenario.

“'s right, Bit. Big sis 'n' I were sparring, an' I landed a punch. Wasn't trying to; just happened. We needed to know if it was the chip that stopped working or whether it was the Claim so Mum said I should hit her and find out. 'course, wasn't gonna hit Mum – I just vamped and tried to bite her. Not that I would have, just the least painful way, see?”

Dawn struggled to process what he was saying, her mind too busy giggling at her that  Spike babbles like an eloquent Buffy when he's nervous! She got what he was trying to tell her – he didn't mean to hurt either her sister or her mom. 

She decided that the best way to express her total confidence in the vampire was a big (friendly! Or should that be sibling?) hug. 

Buffy rolled her eyes at the performance, but Spike grinned at her like she had made his day. Dawn grinned back – she probably had.

***

The Scooby meeting was called for the next morning. Dawn had protested loudly at having to go to school, but their mom was adamant she not miss class and the teen had, eventually and very reluctantly, allowed herself to be driven off in the opposite direction.

Buffy and Spike travelled separately to the Watcher's house, much the same as they had the day before. The Slayer was adamant that no matter how much she loved the idiot vampire she was not going to ruin good shoes without reason. She had pointedly ignored his suggestion that she get a pair of hard-wearing Docs. Her pout was less effective as he had immediately determined to kiss it from her lips.

Buffy waited until Spike came dashing through the early morning light before opening the door and letting them in to her Watcher's apartment. Giles was sharing tea with Tara and another woman with long, dark hair. They all stood to greet the new arrivals and Buffy saw that the strange woman was of Indian descent, with a rich coffee skin tone and dark almond-shaped eyes in a beautiful face that made the Slayer just a teensy bit self-conscious.

Spike put a hand on her shoulder, his fingers grazing his mark on her neck telling her she was being foolish. She resisted the urge to nuzzle her cheek against the back of his hand.

The stranger approached. “Your bond is beautiful. Congratulations.”

She spoke with an unexpectedly British accent, though why this surprised Buffy was a mystery as this was presumably the witch that the coven promised to send to train Willow. 

“Er... thanks?” She replied.

Before she could further puzzle out what her response to such a statement should be, Giles raised his arm and began the introductions. 

“Buffy, Spike, this is Anita, the Witch I was telling you about. After speaking with Anya and Tara yesterday, I consulted with my associates in Devon and we agreed that it would be best if we had their witch on hand to help before talking to Willow. She teleported in first thing.”

Again, Buffy was left feeling like a fish out of water, gasping for a proper response.

Spike broke the ice with a flirtatious “Delightful to make your acquaintance.”

Giles gave him an exasperated look before continuing. “I thought it best to cover all our bases before Willow and Xander arrive. They are due in just over an hour, so if you would like to join us...” 

He gave a vague motion with his arm towards the seating area and they all found a place to sit. 

While Giles poured two more cups of tea, Anita leaned towards Tara and asked quietly, “Do you see it, my dear?”

Tara focused her gaze on Buffy and her vampire before giving a slow nod. “I think so. I didn't notice it yesterday, when it was just Buffy, but the two of them together – they glow...”

Anita nodded. 

Buffy looked from Spike to the witches and frowned. “We're glowy?”

Tara smiled. Her reply was much more confident than they were used to hearing from the shy girl.

“Not you, your auras. When you are together, I can see the change – it is hard to explain. It's like you call to each other and when you are close enough the bond can extend itself physically between your auras and it's kind of beautiful.”

Spike leaned forward, his hands clasped together and elbows on his knees. His expression was torn between interest and concern when he asked, “That's a good thing, right Glinda?”

The blonde witch nodded. “Sure. It's just like a spiritual version of a Buffy putting her hand on your shoulder.” 

She said this with a pointed look at the Slayer's hand that was, in fact, currently resting on his shoulder. He had hardly noticed the comforting touch.

With a nod, the discussion was ended, and the conversation turned to more serious matters.

***

It was a little under an hour later when Xander and Willow burst through the door to Giles' apartment with unusual enthusiasm. They were brought up short when they saw not only the bleached head of the vampire that both were certain would have been permanently dealt with by now, but also a complete stranger sitting beside Tara. A second longer to process the scene added the extra confusion of Buffy sitting far too close to her mortal enemy for comfort.

“What is  he doing here?” Xander asked loudly. “I'd have thought you'd have gotten rid of him by now, Buff.”

Willow grimaced at her best friend's complete lack of tact before giving a look that asked exactly the same thing.

Giles stood. “Hello, Xander, Willow, so nice of you to invite yourselves in.”

Neither seemed to recognise the sarcastic undertones to his statement, though Spike gave a quiet snort of amusement. 

The Watcher continued. “In answer to your question, Xander, it seems that Willow has cast another spell that has had some unforeseen consequences.”

The redhead looked suddenly timid. There was only one spell she could think of that involved Buffy and Spike, but surely a little truth-revealing spell couldn't cause any permanent damage?  Especially the one she wrote!

Xander just looked puzzled. The way Willow had told him about her spell made him pretty sure that Buffy had either permanently excluded or dusted Spike. What could be so bad with either of those options? Though the fact he was sitting a couple of feet away, next to the Slayer, was a rather unsubtle hint that things hadn't gone to Willow's plan...

Giles spoke again with an audible undertone of frustration. 

“Willow, I must ask, what exactly was the spell you cast on Buffy  without her permission? ” 

She meeped. They were always so judgey with her magic. It wasn't fair. It's not like she ever set out to cause any trouble, but even though she did helpful magic all the time they only seemed to remember the spells that didn't quite go to plan. 

“It was only a teensy little truth spell. Nothing dangerous or mind controlling or anything. Totally safe and short-term and non-permanent.”

Buffy let out a breath as some of the tension of worrying about what magic had influenced her melted away. A truth spell made sense, and it obviously only lasted the one day because she had felt her thoughts changing when it ended. 

Tara shook her head at the causal dismissal from her girlfriend. There was so much wrong in what she just said – how had she never realised that Willow was so blasé about her use of magic? 

Xander shrugged. He knew enough about the spell. A thought occurred to him and he interrupted the conversation.

“Should we be talking about this in front of her?” he asked, with a gesture towards Anita.

Giles flustered, realising his faux pas in forgoing introductions – though to be fair the two teens hadn't really given him the opportunity to do so.

“Of course, sorry. Willow, Xander, this is Anita. She is an acquaintance of mine from England, a member of an especially powerful coven, and has come to stay with me for a while to support and tutor the Slayer's witches.”

Willow was immediately on the defensive.

“You got me a tutor? What makes you think I need a tutor? I've been doing perfectly well by myself for the last few years!”

Giles looked incredulous. He couldn't believe the arrogance of the girl – how had he not noticed this before? In an attempt to diffuse the situation lest tempers flared uncontrollably, he spoke up before Spike could.

“Willow, my dear, I did not do this as a punishment or criticism of your skill. Surely you can appreciate the efficiency of studying under a knowledgeable teacher as opposed to by yourself – otherwise why have you bothered to attend college?”

She deflated a little. That made sense, she supposed.

“Now before we get distracted talking about studying magic, could we please discuss this truth spell of yours. Perhaps Anita will be able to help us understand what went wrong.”

Willow was still pretty confident that nothing could possibly have gone wrong with her spell. It was pretty obvious, black-and-white wording. 

Determined to prove herself in front of this new witch, she began her explanation with a long-winded description on the book she had used, her thoughts about spell creation in general and – eventually – the spell she had crafted and the purpose she had intended it for. 

The whole time, Anita sat and listened with rapt attention. Tara stared at the hands in her lap, wholly uncomfortable with this superior side of her lover.

Xander wandered into the kitchen in search of sugary goodness.

Finally, the red-headed witch ended her monologue with the actual words of the spell.

“... you see, the first couplet was written in the book and is pretty standard as these things go: 'as four and twenty hours pass, let the truth be understood.' - that seemed like the perfect basis for the spell I wanted cast. What better way to get rid of Spike and his unwanted obsession than a truth spell? If I could make him understand that he had no chance with Buffy, ever, then he would go away. Or maybe it would remind Buffy that he is an evil demon and she would stop feeling sorry for him and stake him because the whole thing with the chains was creepy and evil.”

She barely paused for breath before continuing, “it took a little work to get the phrasing just right for the second couplet, but I finally went with this: 'a soulless vampire cannot love, no demon will win the Slayer's heart' which doubly emphasises the truth that I wanted to point out, from both sides so that there was no ambiguity.”

When she finished speaking, Buffy could feel the mirth bubbling up in her vampire and gave him a sharp kick to the shin to stop him from laughing out loud. It didn't stop his knowing smirk and Buffy had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from mirroring his expression.

Giles grimaced. 

Anita smiled warmly, gesturing for Willow to take a seat now that she had finished her presentation. 

“You certainly put a lot of thought into that spell, and it was done with good intentions, however truth spells can be incredibly tricky and it seems like you have fallen into the trap most young witches do.”

She raised a finger to stop any argument at that statement.

“It is nothing to be ashamed of. Most young people forget that the truth is subjective but a truth spell is not. You worded the spell around your own understanding of the truth meticulously – unfortunately your subjective truth is not the same as the actual fact of the matter.”

This time, Willow was allowed to ask her question.

“What do you mean? I still don't understand why you think something went wrong with my spell.”

There was an exchange of knowing glances amongst those who understood. It had been decided that perhaps Willow would take the news better from an authority figure who had no history with the group.

Anita explained with a calming voice.

“Willow, your spell didn't go wrong. It worked exactly as you intended. It revealed the truth to Buffy that her idea that 'a soulless demon cannot love' was completely wrong, and likewise both Buffy and Spike came to understand that there  was a demon that could win the Slayer's heart.”

Willow paled. She really  really  didn't like the conclusion her mind had reached.

 


	11. Facing Consequences

It was while Anita was making her point about subjective truths that Xander had wandered back in, hands and mouth full of cookies. When he realised what she was implying about Buffy and Spike, he did a literal spit take – plastering the back of Giles' sofa with macerated cookie before starting in with loud pleas of denial.

“No. No no no. Tell me that the place my mind just went is a horrible bad scary nightmare that isn't real.”

Willow was shaking her head in denial.

“No. That can't be. Everything I have ever read says the same – demons can't love!”

Spike couldn't be held back any more. 

“Just because the bleeding Council of Wankers don't want to acknowledge something doesn't make it a fact! Even gits like Angelus can love – granted he can only love himself, but it's still love!”

Buffy could feel the anger simmering beneath the (relatively) calm face her vampire was presenting. Obviously this 'fact' really hit a nerve.

She decided to add her two cents.

“It's true – the Council books are all horribly biased. I guess they don't want to encourage Slayer-vampire relations.”

Xander's face was now burning red with furious denial. “No! It's a  lie! There must have been something that went wrong with Will's spell. It can't be true!”

Buffy took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. No use letting her infamous slayer temper ignite and fan the embers of Spike's anger into the raging inferno that was already threatening. 

“Xan,” she said, calmly, like talking down a wild animal. “It is true. I can feel it. He loves me, completely.”

Willow furrowed her brow. That didn't make any sense.

“But Buffy,” she said, “there is nothing in the wording of the spell that would make you feel his emotions. This class of magic doesn't work like that.”

Buffy nodded. 

“No, it doesn't. The spell did exactly what you meant it to. Even if the truth it told me is not the one you meant. But once your spell freed me of my preconceptions and let me believe that Spike cared, well... one thing led to another and I sort of accidentally without realising it initiated a Claim.”

The last sentence was released in a speedy mumble by the sheepish Slayer.

Willow's eyes bugged and her face was a mask of shocked horror. Of course, the genius witch knew all about claims. Buffy should have expected it.

Willow actually shouted. “You  what?!”

Xander obviously had no idea what Buffy had said, but the outrage coming from his Willow-shaped friend was enough to gather that it wasn't good.

“What's a Claim?” he asked warily.

His question was almost drowned out by Willow's second shout of “What do you  mean without realising?! It's like, chapter 1 of the Slayer Handbook!”

At that, Buffy buried her face in her palms, cheeks burning. Beside her, Spike chortled. Giles simply groaned and removed his glasses for another polish.

“There's a Slayer Handbook? I thought that was a joke.” Xander piped up in the awkward pause before Buffy could bring herself to answer.

The Slayer in question finally pushed past her embarrassment and lifted her head to address her best friend.

“That's the thing, Will. I never actually read the Slayer Handbook. I didn't even know it was really a thing.”

While Willow sputtered incoherently at that bombshell, Xander tried again to get his answers.

“So, what is this claim thing exactly and how does it explain Buffy and the creepy vamp feeling knowledge?”

There was an awkward silence as everyone else exchanged glances and tried to palm off the duty of explaining what had happened to Xander. There was no point in Spike speaking, and Buffy was never good with words. Anita sat back, willing to take up the reins but feeling that the young man would only truly accept the words from a trusted friend.

That left Willow and Giles in a war of wills. The Watcher was the more logical source of information, and yet he worried that his words would be more easily dismissed. Eventually the young witch sighed in defeat and met her oldest friend's eyes.

“A Claim is... it's like marriage for demons.”

Xander blanched. Spike and Buffy were  married ?! What the – he somehow managed to hold back his need to lash out and let his brain process the words. Married. It was disgusting, but it was still only a paperwork thing, right? They could un-marry them and all would be blissfully back to normal.

“Ok,” he said at last, “so how do we undo it.”

The silence dragged on long enough that he was pretty sure of the answer even before Willow finally spoke.

“We can't. A claim is permanent. The backlash of trying to break such a ritual... it could be catastrophic. We could kill Buffy.”

While the Whelp began ranting and raving about the injustice and 'freaky disgusting vampires' Spike barely managed to hold back a growl at the little witch's words. It seemed to him that the only reason that she was holding back in demanding to magically 'free' them from the Claim was a fear of accidentally killing her best friend. There was no indication that she actually understood how wrong the very idea of breaking a claim was. How painful it would be for both parties to have that innate closeness ripped away. 

No, she just worried that Buffy might die in the backlash. Stupid witch. If it was up to him, they'd be stripping her of her powers, no questions asked. She didn't deserve them. 

It seemed like Anita agreed. The dark skinned witch looked horrified at the thoughtful tone that had coloured Willow's words about breaking the ritual, and deeply disturbed by the sigh of dismissal. Not because the very idea was wrong, but because she didn't want to endanger her friend. 

The little witch was far more dangerous than the coven had initially realised.

Anita raised her voice slightly, gaining the group's attention with the ease of a skilled teacher. 

“Peace, children. There is no use shouting over things that can't be changed. You should be happy for your friend – she has found a devoted partner for life. Surely you don't begrudge her happiness because of your prejudice against the man she loves?”

Xander looked ready to announce that yes, yes he did begrudge her a relationship with a disgusting, evil  thing when Giles spoke quietly to him.

“You are really in no position to judge. Either of you,” he added, with a stern look to Willow. “There has been nothing but acceptance when you chose to have relationships with a werewolf or a vengeance demon. And yet you would hold Buffy to standards you yourselves will not conform to?”

Xander's automatic shout of “ex! Ex-vengeance demon!” sounded a little desperate.

“Still,” continued Giles, “she has blood on her hands. Far more, I would guess, than Spike here, and she has equally never shown any kind of remorse. Both of them changed only when given no other option but to do so. Do you really think that Anya would have stayed and fallen in love with you if she still had her pendant? Whereas I am fairly confident that now, even without that chip in his head, Spike would remain at Buffy's side.”

Xander sputtered and finally seemed to realise that he was not going to win the argument at this time. With a final huff and a glare of pure hatred directed at Spike, he slammed his way back out of the apartment.

“Well, that went well,” declared Spike and received a thump on the leg for his trouble. This time, though, Buffy didn't allow the reflexive 'shut up, Spike' to follow. She knew that his sarcastic response was a defence mechanism, hiding the overwhelming feelings that her Watcher's implicit trust in him had ignited. Instead, she let him centre himself and returned her attention to her witchy friend.

Willow stood alone, but surrounded by friends. The scrutiny of the group was suddenly focused on her and she felt that she was left wanting.

“I am so sorry, Buffy,” she said with tears glistening in her big, sorrowful eyes, “I did something stupid and now you are trapped with Spike forever.”

Buffy gave her a bland smile. Her mind wandered off on a little tangent, imagining being trapped with Spike... by Spike... under Spike... before she shook off the lusty thoughts and focused back on her friend. She had been thinking about the other girl's misuse of magic for the past couple of days and had come to a rather terrifying conclusion.

“Yes, you did something stupid. You are so, so lucky that the only thing that happened is trapping me in a permanent connection to the man that I love. Frankly, Will, your messing with magic scares me more than pretty much anything except maybe Glory. Because I can't trust you. Because I need to believe that you will always have my back, but I can't when I have to worry that the next time you get your heart broken you might fix me up to be raped again.”

Willow looked at her in shocked confusion. “R-raped? I would never-”

“You already have, Will. Do you have any idea how close Spike and I came to having sex under that stupid will-be-done spell? That would have been rape! It was something that neither of us wanted without the spell. It was something you  made us want. What would you call making someone have sex when they don't really want to, Will?”

The red-head paled and started shaking. Her knees gave out and she slumped to the floor. Tears were streaming down her face.

“What – I never – I didn't -”

It was a minute before anyone moved. Tara was curled up in her seat, crying silently but refusing to involve herself. Anita watched. Buffy stood and moved to embrace her friend.

“I know that isn't what you meant to do, Willow. I know you have a good heart, but that isn't enough. You need to learn how to use your magic safely.”

The other girl nodded. Devastated. Desperate not to lose her friend. “I'll learn, Buffy. I'll be the best student ever in the history of witches. You know me, when I start learning something...”

She trailed off when she saw the expression on the others' faces. There was something else, something she didn't understand. Something she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Anita knelt beside the two girls on the floor. 

“You have proven yourself both incredibly powerful and entirely untrustworthy in your use of magic. When Mr. Giles first contacted the coven, it was with a request to assist in binding your powers-”

“No!” screamed Willow. “You can't take them away, I won't let you!”

Her eyes started to glaze over with blackness and Buffy shook her, hard. “Willow! Stop that and listen!”

Anita continued speaking as if the interruption had never happened.

“We told him that binding powers is not truly possible in the way he was imagining. We cannot take the magic from you and to bind it within you without an outlet is to put a pressurised can on the fire. Sooner or later, it will explode.”

She smiled kindly at Willow. “We do not believe in that sort of punishment for misdeeds, especially those done out of immature thoughtlessness with no malicious intent. That being said, you do need to learn control and until then you can't be trusted with the magics you possess.”

Willow looked confused. They weren't going to take her powers? But they weren't going to let her keep them? 

“What does that mean?” she asked quietly. 


	12. Breaking the Circuit

Anita looked at her kindly. “It is a kind of temporary binding. We can neither remove your power from you, nor can we contain it within you – what we can do is bind it to another witch. Under this binding, you will be unable to use your magic alone. Think of it like an electric circuit – your power is held in your own batteries but the circuit will be broken and not work unless the switch is flicked on. Physical contact is the switch that you would need to 'turn on' your power and cast a spell. Much like a child needing to physically hold their parent's hand to cross the road until they are trustworthy enough to do so alone, while you learn the foundations and ethics of magic you will need your hand to be held. If you are as good a student as I have heard, then this phase of your training will surely be short.”

Willow looked anxious. The idea that she lose access to her magics, even temporarily, even only when alone, terrified her. She didn't like the idea of having a stranger tied to her all the time, either. Having to consult an adult for even the most minor spell. She felt like she was being forced back into kindergarten.

“Will you be the other witch?” she asked Anita, unable to keep the sullen tone from her voice.

“If that is what you wish. There is another option. Tara has volunteered to take that responsibility upon herself if you would prefer.”

Willow looked at her girlfriend, hurt and relief warring in her expression. “Tara, baby, you  knew about this?”

She shrank back, away from her lover. The accusation clear in the question, she feared whatever she might say would be inadvertently hurtful.

“M-mr. Giles a-asked me if I w-would help w-with the spell. I told him that it w-was up to you. I c-couldn't do it w-without your c-consent.”

Willow felt close to tears. Tara hadn't stuttered like that when speaking to her since almost the first day they met! Was she really so out of control that even Tara was scared of her?

“Oh, Sweetie, of course you wouldn't go behind my back. I – I really -” she couldn't speak through the tears for a moment. She never wanted to be someone that her friends were scared of.

Eventually, she collected herself and turned to Anita. 

“I'll do it. I don't like it, but if the people who know me and love me are scared of what I am turning into, then I must need help. If- if it's ok with you, I would prefer that Tara be the other witch. I trust her completely.”

Once the decision was made, it was a relatively simple matter (chanting and magic circles aside) to bind the access point of Willow's magic to Tara. 

***

Buffy and Spike had left a sobbing Willow to be comforted by Tara and Anita. They had both watched in silence as the witch had her powers restrained and though neither was certain that this was an adequate consequence for her callous spell, it was enough for now. That didn't mean that either wanted to spend any more time with the little witch than absolutely necessary right now.

Instead, they headed home. 

As it was still early afternoon, they once again split up to make the journey. Buffy was ready with the open door when Spike came sprinting out of the sewers under his blanket. She felt a sudden, inexplicable burst of affection for her crazy, sun-happy vamp. 

The house was empty, and even though Dawn was almost certain to be home promptly today, they still had a couple of hours at least before the teen destroyed the peace.

The high emotions and stress of the morning left Buffy suddenly exhausted and she placidly allowed her mate to guide her upstairs to their bedroom. Once there she sat on the bed while Spike removed first his boots, then her own. 

He moved around her to sit up against the headboard and patted the bed next to him. Buffy shuffled back to her now-familiar place at his side and curled into his chest as the comforting weight of his arm settled over her shoulders.

Suddenly, she was fighting back tears. She quickly lost the battle, a sob broke free and her shoulders started shaking. For several long minutes she cried, soaking Spike's shirt with her tears, unable to understand why exactly she was crying at all.

When she pulled back, Spike kissed the top of her head and asked quietly “feeling better, love?”

She sniffled and was surprised to find herself being presented with a stained square of cloth which at one point was probably white. She looked to Spike in confusion.

“It's called a hanky, Slayer. Use it to dry your eyes and blow your nose.”

She looked mistrustfully at the cloth, but did as she was told. 

“I'm sorry. I don't even know why I was crying. I mean, it's over. Sort of. Willow is going to have to learn about control and not casting spells on people without permission and stuff. And it's not that I'm even all that mad, because I got  you out of it, but at the same time I feel so... violated. Like, she took away my choices – even if they  were bad ones – and it scares me to think that maybe she did something before. I mean, she was the one that was pushing me to get with Riley. What if she did something to 'encourage' me? Oh god! Do you think she did?”

Spike tried very hard not to growl at the thought. If that was true, then Red was in for a world of pain, chip be damned. Still, right now it was more important that he calm his panicking mate. Stroking her hair, he spoke in as soothing a voice as he could manage in the moment.

“Don't know, luv. She could have, but the way her spells mess up makes it seem unlikely that you wouldn't have found her out. We'll get the new witch to do a truth spell, find out every bit of 'helpful' magic Red has done, and if she  has violated you like that then she better get out of SunnyHell sharpish.”

He couldn't stop his voice from degenerating into a threatening rumble with his last words. The arm around his Slayer's shoulder tightened in tandem with the fist around his heart. He couldn't bear the thought that she might have been betrayed that deeply by her so-called best friend.

Buffy whimpered. She squeezed him back with a silent prayer that the truth spell would come up negative. The pain Willow had caused didn't change the fact that Buffy was not happy with the idea of her best friend being at the mercy of a soulless vampire. Even if she wasn't her best friend any more. Even if the soulless vampire would probably not kill her because he loved Buffy too much to hurt her like that. She still didn't want to even think of it.

“I really hope she didn't,” she whispered. 

Spike sighed and murmured into her hair “I hope so, too.”

***

As predicted, Dawn had slammed her way into the house promptly at the end of the school day. She was still more than a little grumpy that she had been forced to attend her classes rather than join the Scooby meeting.

Not that she had really expected any less from her stupid sister, but Willow's meddling affected her life too! It wasn't fair that they insisted in treating her like a little kid all the time.

She had rushed home at the end of the day and was determined to pull every last detail of the meeting from Buffy. And when that didn't work, she would turn the puppy eyes on Spike and get them anyway. But the house was suspiciously silent. Surely they weren't still at Giles'?

The duster hanging up behind the door suggested otherwise. 

Dawn headed upstairs to dump her bag in her bedroom and found herself outside Buffy's bedroom door. She hovered uncertainly on the landing – usually there would be no thought about barging right in, but she was very aware that her sister and best friend might be  doing stuff in there.

But that was why the older girl had fitted a lock on the inside of the door, wasn't it? To stop Dawn barging in on things that might scar her for life. So, really, if anything  was happening and Dawn opened the door then it was entirely Buffy's fault. 

Not that the teenager actually wanted to see her sister like that. 

Still... she didn't think she could wait much longer to find out what had happened. She stepped right up to the door and listened intently. No sound. That was a good thing, right?

Deciding that it probably was, she grasped the handle and turned. It was almost a surprise when the door actually opened and in a moment of panic, Dawn hastily covered her eyes before looking in.

Peering from between her fingers, she met the eyes of a smirking vampire. Dropping her hand and trying her hardest not to blush, she took in the fully-dressed couple on the bed. Buffy was curled up against Spike's side, frowning even in sleep. 

“Did something bad happen?” she whispered.

His reply was so soft she had to strain to hear it. “Nothin' we weren't expectin', pet. It just hit her when we got home is all.”

Dawn nodded and in a surprising show of maturity, she backed out of the room and closed the door behind her. She decided that she might as well do her homework now so that there was no reason for her not to join in the inevitable discussion once her mom came home. Buffy was a real meanie when she was woken up, anyway.

***

It was the slam of the front door as Joyce returned from the gallery that finally woke Buffy. She was surprised to find that she had fallen asleep for long enough that there was no longer any sunlight peeking through her closed curtains. 

“Feeling better, luv?” rumbled Spike from behind her. 

She snuggled into his embrace for a moment before nodding her head against his chest. 

“I guess that was Dawnie coming home. We should probably get up.”

Spike kissed the top of her head. “Bit got back a while ago. That would be your mum slamming the door all graceful like down there.”

It took Buffy's mind a moment to process – how is it possible that Dawn returned from school and hadn't bounced her out of bed in anticipation of news? For whatever reason, she was thankful as she stretched out the kinks in her back from the slightly awkward position she had slept in.

The couple headed downstairs to the predictable scenario of Dawn and Joyce making cocoa in preparation for the inevitable dissection of the Scooby meeting. They hadn't even made it as far as entering the kitchen before the youngest Summers jumped up from her stool and pounced on them, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.

“So? What happened? Did Xander's head explode? Is Willow in trouble? What did Giles say? Is Tara -”

Spike held up a hand to interrupt her stream of questions. He was rather impressed that the teen had managed the entire outburst on a single breath.

“Hold on, Bit! Take in some air and let us give you an answer before asking the next one!”

Dawn looked sheepish and slunk back to her seat beside her mother.

Buffy stopped not far into the kitchen and Spike automatically wrapped his arms around her in support. It allowed her to, quite literally, lean on him while he let her take the lead on what to say (or not) to her family.

She gave a brief overview of their discussion with the witches and the subsequent interrogation by Xander and Willow. Dawn was suitably outraged at Xander's reaction to news of the claim. Joyce listened quietly but was obviously relieved when she heard that Willow had agreed to have her magic use restrained.

Buffy decided not to share her concerns over any possible previous meddling in her relationships. At least, not with her sister in the room. As much as she professed maturity, there were some things that the teenager did not need to know. 

Re-telling the events of the day also helped Buffy to rebalance her overwrought emotions and she was feeling much more like her normal self by the end of her monologue. Dawn appeared to have more questions (when didn't she?) but had been calmed, for now, by a look from her mom. 

The conversation was moved to the safer realm of what they were going to have for dinner as Buffy and Spike sat down at the island to drink their cocoa. Buffy was only about 50% certain that Dawn's disgusting and/or downright crazy menu suggestions were being made in an attempt to cheer her up. 

Either way it worked, and her mood was significantly lighter even as she was presented with a pile of potatoes to peel.


End file.
